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ALICIA DE LACY

AN

HISTORICAL ROMANCE.

VOL. II. Strahan and Preston, Printers-Street, London. ALICIA DE LACY

HISTORICAL ROMANCE,

BY

THE AUTHOR OF « THE LOYALISTS," &c.

Wisdom in sable garb array'd, IminersM in rapturous thought profound, And Melancholy, silent maid, With leaden eye that loves the ground,

Still on thy solemn steps attend : Warm Charity, the general friend, With Justice, "to herself severe, And Pity, dropping soft the sadly-pleasing tear. Gray's Ode to Adversity.

IN FOUR VOLUMES.

VOL. II.

LONDON:

PRINTED FOB LONGMAN, HURST, REES, ORME, ANI> BROWN, PATERNOSTER-ROW.

I8I4.

$33

v. ^

ALICIA DE LACY

CHAPTER III.

For contemplation he and valour form'd ; For softness she, and sweet attractive grace. Milton.

A LICIA has hitherto been presented to the reader's eye in the not

uncommon character of a fair heiress,

desperately in love, and aiming to sur- mount the obstacles which interposed

to defeat her wishes. She interested a heart which devotion and patriotism had rendered insensible to the com- mon snares of beauty, by discovering

corresponding sentiments at a first

interview, and, without designing to

deceive, love taught her, as often as she

VOL. II. B ;

r • )

met the man whose affection she lan- guished to secure, to adopt the manners and opinions which she knew he approved. Accustomed to hear her father express

his stern abhorrence of that prodigal

waste of time, treasure, and talents, which diverted the King from his royal duties, she persuaded herself that she detested the luxury and indulgence of the court

and that a retired life, devoted to con- templation and solitude, was most adapted

to her taste. She would, indeed, banish the austere Father Ambrose from her

cell ; but in his stead, besides the hour-

glass, maple-dish, and cross bones, she pictured that abode as containing a princely hermit. While her eye pur- sued through the courtly circle one ma- jestic figure, she had no superfluous admiration to bestow on the embroidered

scarfs or plumed bonnets that pretended to eclipse his native dignity ; and the hope that one smile, full of meaning, or a ( 3 )

per, half implying approbation, would

testify that Lord Lancaster's thoughts could sometimes be diverted from musing on England's wrongs, rendered it impos« sible for her to hear the garrulous flat- teries of those who spoiled an ingenious

compliment by their dull repetition, or fan- cied they looked enchanting by distorting

their faces, or twisting their persons into

affected postures. She had no time to

bestow on chose triflers ; all they did or said was disgusting, because it diverted her from a sublime study. A squirrel might be held in a wicker cage, but she

was contriving to ensnare a lion : the

difficulty of such an achievement en-

hanced the value of the prize, and in-

duced her to forget, what consideration

would have told her, that those who as-

pire to glory must prepare themselves to

encounter difficulty, and endure sorrow. From the time of her receiving Lord

Surrey's letter, Alicia perceived a differ-

B 2 (4 )

ence in the behaviour of Lancaster, indicating, that he equally despised the presumption which affected to set her at

liberty, and the arrogance that threatened the exercise of her freedom. The me- naces of a malignant and potent rival constituted a stimulus to an heroic

mind ; and his declaration of fervent

affection was only withheld by his scru- pulous desire to prevent either the lady's fame from being committed, or a breach in the public harmony. The Earl of Lincoln, enthusiastic in

his admiration of Lancaster, seemed to withdraw his thoughts from the grave of

his young heir, to contemplate the ripened

worth of one to whom it was the avowed wish of hisheart that his vast hereditaments

might be conveyed by an auspicious alli- ance. But in proportion as Alicia saw the

difficulties that impeded her long-cherished hopes diminish, the caprice that indulgence .

( 5 ) had fostered in her disposition, tempted her to practise those wayward arts which lessen the value of the female character by impeaching its sincerity. The pilgrim- age to Palestine was, by the unanimous advice of the ordainers, suspended, till the impoverished country could spare the remittance it would divert from claims connected with its vital interests. There was no longer any talk of Lord Lan-

caster's becoming grand master of the

knights-templars ; his interference in

their favour terminated with the King's

promising to suspend his decree for their

suppression, till their advocates were con fronted with their accusers, and evidence

examined on the validity of the charges

urged against them. It was known that the Queen of Navarre advised her son to marry, and take an active part in the government. With one of these in- junctions he had complied, being named

president of the council ; and the change

B 3 ( 6 ) in his manners augured an intention to fulfil the other. He was now rather grave than austere, dejection changed to sere- nity, and a condescending relaxation, often amounting to decorous chearfulness, brought him near the level of other men u Ah, Lancaster," said the exulting beauty to herself, " at last, then, you are my captive. But it is impossible to resist the pleasure of making you feel for the

trouble you have cost me ; and though I

do not mean to be very inexorable, I must see you court my smiles, fear my frowns, and dance attendance on my sovereign will." Confirmed by her confidant, Beatrice,

in her resolution of tyrannizing, Lady

Alicia passed over in her mind a hun- dred whimsical moods, pondering in which she should receive the hourly- expected declaration. What, if she

were to lift her eyes to heaven, invoke

Saint Ursula and all her virgins, and ( 7 ) protest her inclination for a cloister, cautiously softening that avowal by al- luding to her father's prohibition of her taking the veil. What, if she were to pro- pose previous conditions, enlarge on the Queen's friendship, and stipulate that she must reside at court. Again, suppos# she were to require a magnificent esta- blishment at a separate castle. Rich attire and gay festivals, shenow discovered, were much more pleasant and congenial to her taste than the spare fasts, the tedious vigils, the monotonous routine of matins, lauds, vespers, and nocturns, which had employed her youth ; and if the Earl of Lancaster's habits leaned too much that way, as Beatrice asserted, a hint of her having been already satiated might be usefuL The confidant eloquently argued in favour of express and minute stipulations, urging her lady not to trust too much to the power of those conquer- ing glances which her father told her shot B 4 ( 8 ) from her eyes, nor to the playfulness which had often disarmed his rage, or the tears that melted his firmest purposes. Such grave, steady men as Lord Lancaster generally made stern husbands, the most intractable race of animals in the world, who were always expecting people to act from reason, and to be to-day the same as yesterday. The girl's loquacity was interrupted by her lady's apparent dis- pleasure. She was not going, she said,

to embark on the voyage of life with a

Friar Ambrose, cold to all the social

affections, and absorbed in the wild reve-

ries of monastic ambition. The Earl of Lancaster, though grave and devout, was a knight, and a gentleman of princely race and courtly breeding, learned, en- lightened, and courteous. Beatrice was

most happy to hear this good account of

him, for his merit had not its due praise among the Queen's ladies of honour. Of

this she was certain, that her dear lady's ( 9 ) super-eminent deserts and large in- heritance deserved a husband made on purpose for her, and comprizing the very best qualities of all the fine men she knew : as handsome as the King, without his love of low dissipation ; as accom- plished as Gaveston, without his vanity and insolence ; as amiable as Gloucester, without his timid modesty ; as spirited as Warwick, without his impetuosity j Beatrice ventured to add, and as gallant, splendid, and generous as the Earl of

Surrey, without his inconstancy ; but Alicia shuddering, kissed her crucifix, and prayed the Virgin to preserve her from a murderer. The courageous attendant was not silenced by this rebuff; but begged her lady to distinguish between a brave gentleman, generous and accomplished, who, though he had done some rash things in his youth, was deeply enamoured of a beautiful lady who might reform him,

b 5 ( "> )

and change him into an excellent hus-

band j and a cruel, fierce Saracen, whose

trade it was to shut up ladies in castles,

and bury knights in dungeons. " I com- mand thee silence on that theme," said

vows, and denouncing vengeance on all

who shall presume to avail themselves of my freedom."

It was after some of these discussions,

to which the confidential intimacy then

existing between ladies of high rank, and those who performed the double duty of attendants and companions often gave rise, that Lady Alicia was interrupted by the

Earl of Warwick, who came, he said, as the harbinger of one whose high deserts needed no advocate to plead his suit. Lord Lancaster was closetted with her father, urging a request which could not be denied. Alicia assumed the high disdain of beauty, and observed, it would ( » ) be of no importance for her to know the purport, if she had no voice in the deter- mination.

5 " My fair cousin, ' answered Warwick, while a playful mischief laughed in his eye, " how does your quick intelligence out- step my halting narrative. I might reply to this pretty pouting, by asking, whence springs the self-accusing consciousness, that implies your bright eyes have be- trayed the lapse of your truant heart ?

What, if Lancaster requests that he may be your champion, and preserve you from the snare of a bold ravisher ; if you mean to repay his kindness only with disdain, even sort out your bridal de- corations, and let your sumpter mule follow your palfrey, for by this time to- morrow the fear of your mother's male- diction will not prevent you from suing to become Lord Surrey's wife." He then acquainted her with the plot con- fessed by Eubulo, which Lancaster sus- b 6 C N ) pected was a snare laid for himself. It might, however, be otherwise. Alicia turned deadly pale, and Warwick asked her if she was disposed to fulfil the con- tract. " Never, never." The image of the twin lilies floating down the Dee, of their distracted mother, of her own dear lost

William, all rose to her recollection. With clasped hands she protested death was preferable; but recovering herself, exclaimed, " Why am I thus alarmed ?

Ah, Warwick, there is a wicked pleasant- ry in your look which contradicts your effected seriousness. My father is a mighty baron, and can I fear violence, when he can bring into the field five hundred men at arms, with crested helmets and quilted surcoats, and thrice that number of skilful archers ? Is he not owner of nine walled castles ; and would not the north and the south, the east and the west, at his bidding ?" array themselves for, my preservation ( '3 )

" You forget," said Warwick, " that

to-morrovy is the time of danger ; and the array you speak of consists of peaceful yeomen, now reposing in their own dwellings. Nor are you in one of your

father's castles, but in a treacherous court,

leagued to abet the ravisher's designs." He further reminded her, that the distracted state from which the kingdom

had just emerged, and the necessity that

all parties should unite in its preservation,

determined the barons who were faithful

to the cause of their country, to abstain from appealing to arms in arbitrement of

private wrong, but to submit to injury,

till the slow but peaceable decision of the laws should do them justice. Impatient of the terms to which he had submitted,

the King only waited for an occasion to charge the popular lords with breach of

contract ; and how would the patriotism, how would the delicacy of Lady Alicia endure the idea of being the ostensible ;

( U )

fire-brand that kindled the flame of civil war." cc Oh, send me to one of my father's

castles !" was the lady's next request. "Warwick replied, that duty fixed De Lacy and his friends about the King's

person, but Surrey had no state appoint-

ment, and was at liberty to pursue her to

any of those retreats. His mock banditti might be stationed on any other road

and forests and caverns could be found equally convenient for his purposes near Canford, Denbigh, Pontefract, Chester, or Lincoln, as at Windsor. The terrified Alicia wept, and asked how she could be preserved. Warwick answered, there was a retreat safe and honourable, pointed out by wisdom, guarded by courage, sanctioned by religion, lighted by love. When manners were generally corrupt, when the mighty were dissolute and the rabble lawless, an honourable husband was the only guardian to which richly- C '5 ) portioned beauty could intrust its treasures and its charms. The Earl of Lancaster, with the single-heartedness of true af- fection, despised his own peril, to place the object of his generous love in honour- able security. The wife of a prince of the blood-royal was too sacredly protected by the laws to fear violence. The Queen of Navarre would receive her as a daughter, and supply, by her wisdom and magna- nimity, that maternal protection which Lady Margaret had renounced. The King considered Kenilworth as a sanc- tuary ; marriage would release her from her attendance on the Queen ; her confessor had pronounced her absolved in conscience from her contract ; and Surrey would be but a perverse arguer, if, after signing her manumission, he presumed to call her to account as his slave."

" You read my eyes, fair Lady Alicia,"

continued Warwick, bending to look in ( *6 )

her face, cc permit me also to learn the language of yours. By the sword of Guy,

*tis hatred, fixed disgust, insurmountable

aversion to my friend. What, though his

birth is princely, his disposition noble?

his possessions royal ; I was deceived

when I fancied those anxious looks, which

covertly watched his movements, and that breathless admiration which hung on every word he uttered, marked the willing servitude of a captivated heart. But the

empire of beauty must yield its petty ty-

ranny, when potent enemies threaten its

destruction. If Lancaster is not worthy

to protect you confidentially, name to me which of the suitors who bow in your

train you think meet to prefer, and I doubt not, although inferior in merit, the

.selected lover will be more liberal in pro-

fession, and as prompt in accepting the task imposed by your preference." " Ungenerous Warwick," replied

Alicia, " are there no reasons which ;

( -7 ) should make me hesitate. Has Lord

Lancaster ever evinced that desire to win my affections, which would assure me of the state of his own ?" " His merits wooed you," answered

Beauchamp. " Let meaner lovers apply- to Cupid's text-book for that eloquence which props the cause of doubtful desert and what more manly proof can he give you of the force of his affection, than to brave, for your sake, the enmity of the most proud and inexorable baron in Eng- land, whose revenge, like a covered fire, will burn the fiercest because it must be concealed."

" Surely," replied Alicia, " honour requires me to avoid exposing his gene- rosity to such peril." " Tha* reason," replied Warwick,

" holds its force in respect to every other champion, and dooms you to be the un- defended victim of Surrey's violence.

But prefer that plea personally, and if ( i8 )

you urge it with the same look of winning gentleness and sweet surrender you now

use, I mistake much if it will not have the

same effect on my friend ; the threats of proud Surrey rendering him more deter- mined to devote his life to your service.

But the night wears ; your safety depends on prompt decision, and I came to con- duct you instantly to your father." As Warwick hurried Alicia to Lord

Lincoln's pavilion, her heart throbbed

with contrary emotions ; even coquetry

7 w as not excepted : and she recollected, but could not arrange the proposed stipu- lations. Joy was subdued by the delicate apprehension that maiden pride had been

defrauded of its just prerogative ; that she had been won before she was wooed ; that pity, or any other motive than real preference, induced Lancaster to offer a protection, which seemed, on his part, a gift, while the hand she bestowed was rather the suppliant's plea for aid, than ( *9 ) the reward of faithful service. With these fears, sufficient to alarm any deli- cate mind, were mixed regrets peculiar to this gay young beauty. She had not proved the power her mirror told her she

possessed ; and what superiority would a husband assume, who, as a lover, had never trembled at her frowns, sued for her smile, nor waited on her caprices; had never appeared weakly miserable, nor ri- diculously elated ; had given no proofs that he would succumb to her will, or even allow her to be the guide of her own actions ? But then this terrible Surrey, — though there was somewhat like attach- ment in his persevering pretensions, and though he might, as Beatrice said, be less of a monster than her settled aversion

his described him ; yet the dark design of eye, the measured amenity of his smile,

ever fearful of sliding into the grin of ma-

levolence ; the studied courtliness of his compliments, the hurrying impetuosity of

«.. ( 20 )

Iiis vivacity An involuntary shudder chilled her blood as she sketched this por-

trait, and she shrunk with contempt from her own wayward caprices, in doubting

if she could be happy with a husband whom every one revered. Margaret of Gloucester wept in secret for the dis-

graces and follies of Gaveston, whom in public she attempted to defend. Queen

Isabella avoided all allusions to her royal consort, from a consciousness that no-

thing could be said in his praise ; but on one topic she could always be eloquent, the good deeds of the Earl her husband.

If Warwick would not hurry her along

so fast, and give her time to recollect her scattered thoughts, perhaps in her man- ner of receiving his addresses she might impress the mind of her princely lover with a conviction that she was not wholly

unworthy to be considered as the partner

of his fortunes. .But she was already in the presence of her father: he looked

? ( v ) paler than usual, as he lay extended on his pallet conversing with Lord Lan- caster, who stood unbonnetted by his side, with an air so expressive of respect and humility, as re-assured the agitated maiden, while turning her eyes from her princely lover, she sunk on her knees by her father's couch, and craved to know his pleasure.

The Earl of Lincoln rose, and as he

embraced his darling, she felt the feeble flutterings of his overlaboured heart.—

" My child," said he, " while I had

power to draw this sword from its scab- bard, thou hadst no need of any other pro-

tector 5 but now, even thy soft arm slides

from my grasp. Beloved of my soul, to

whom shall I entrust thee ? Thy mother has forsaken thee, limiting her influence

to those secluded walls my will forbids

thee to enter. A snare is laid for thy free- dom, thy honour, thy peace. These re- ( ** ) peated alarms hasten an old man's journey to the grave. I would not be deprived of all I love, before I receive the parting viaticum. I would reserve one hand, the pressure of which would fall grateful on my closing eyes. "When the richly laden vine is unsupported, the basest foot treads on its produce; but marry it to the stately elm, and it forms a purple canopy, luxu- riant and secure from spoliation. Behold in this illustrious head of the Lancastrian Plantagenets, a protector given thee by thy father ; and, princely Earl, with the full fee of all my possessions, secured to thee and thy heirs, receive the last and dearest of my children as an especial trust, and Heaven so deal with thee as thou art kind and just to her." Was this a moment for stipulated rights, for affected levity, or coy disdain ?

Lancaster, with one knee bent to the ground, and with the same look of re- verent lowliness as when he first met her

5 ( *3 ) in his pilgrim's garb, received Alicia's hand from her father. ".Mine is a proud heart, Lady," said he, " yet would I not confine my gratitude for this vast influx of happiness to the partial generosity of thy venerated father. If I part with this fair hand, which now trembles like a captive in my grasp, wilt thou again be- stow it as the signification of thy free choice, and the invaluable reward of my solemn avowal, that not the earldoms which are given as thy dower, nor yet the unrivalled beauty of thy person, would have withdrawn my regards from that

Heaven which gave thee beauty, were I not convinced that this consummate love- liness ranks least among thy abundant graces ?"

What could Alicia answer ? She was most inclined to avow, that the desire of her soul was to deserve her high fortunes, in being united to a man whom she held ( H )

dearer than all her natural or adventi-

tious advantages ; but on occasions when

language is incapable of interpreting the heart, nature explains her sentiment by

the usual associate of strong susceptibility,

the unequivocal expression of an intelli- gent countenance. Alicia restored her yielded hand to Lancaster, with a salute that spoke tenderness rather than joy.

Then hastily turning from the lord of her future destiny, she fixed her eyes on the ghastly countenance of him from whom she had derived her being ; and throwing herself into his arms with an intensity of affection which, while it seemed to ex- clude every other object, more especially endeared her to Lancaster, exclaimed,

" My dearest, dearest father, who will minister to your infirmities if I must leave you ?" " A grateful country and a gracious God/' answered the Earl of Lincoln, as ( 25 ) with renovated strength he rose from his couch and commanded Father-

Ambrose to perform the ceremony. When the wedded pair knelt for his be- nediction, and he embraced his daughter as Countess of Lancaster, it seemed as if that name, like a consecrated amulet, conferring security and peace, instanta- neously checked the ravages of decay. Raising his eyes to heaven, De Lacy in- voked the spirits of his glorious ancestors, calling on them to observe, that he had given them a representative worthy of their inheritance. " The virtues and the renown of the Lacies and the Longspees,*' said he, " rest upon thee. Be thou, Alicia, chaste and duteous as the matrons from whom thou art sprung ; binding to our house, with a band of adamant, this stately pillar, whose firmness will secure its durability and thy safety. And now^ when the angel of death smites me to the

vol. ii. c ;

( *6 )

*dust, weep not for the removal of an old

man, whose task in life is concluded but lay my corpse among my ancestors, and fill my place with benigner influence and happier fortunes*" ;

C * )

CHAP. XIII.

'Tis the mind that makes the body rule And as the sun breaks through the darkest night, So honour peereth in the meanest habit.

"What ! is the jay more precious than the lark,

Because the feathers are more beautiful ? Shakespeare,

HPHE Earl of Lancaster requested a private audience of the King, to ask a few days delay in his attendance at Westminster, and assigned as a cause for his absence his intention of escorting his wife to Kenilworth. Edward, starting, repeated the word wife! Lancaster re- plied, most assuredly he was married, and to the heiress of the Earl of Lincoln. His manner spoke the calm magnanimity of conscious power and steady rectitude, as he respectfully waited the King's reply. C 2 C a* )

After a little hesitation, " We must/* said the courteous prince, " rejoice in an event which binds the services of our dear and illustrious cousin to us and to his country ; yet must we also complain of secrecy and precipitation, seeming to doubt our approbation, and preventing those public testimonials of good-will with which we would have joyfully celebrated such high espousals.*' Lancaster answered, that an event which in itself constituted full felicity, was rather encumbered than improved by those pompous gratulations, which pained delicacy, and disturbed the still com- placence of true delight. Nor did it be- come one who had so long acted {he part of a censor, to permit in his own case the needless expence and vain frivolity he had so often condemned. " Cousin," replied the King, " we cannot but hope that the auspicious choice

,on which we felicitate you, will induce ( 29 ) you to view with less austerity those happy reliefs to severe business, in which your fair bride lately appeared as the best orna- ment. We cannot allow the eclipse of that bright luminary, whose beams shone so sweetly on our court. Grave seclusion may suit the years of our royal aunt of Navarre, but every gallant of our train would suspect you of discourteous jea- lousy or unknightly fear, were you, while your state employments fix you near us, to cull this just opened rose from our bower, and hide it in a sanctuary."

" Should such degrading reflections be uttered," answered the Earl of Lancaster,

" I trust my gracious prince will be my advocate. He knows 1 would not have married a woman I could suspect of light conduct. He also knows, that, as a knight, I only fear my Creator. But though chastity is a tower of strength to beauty, these, my liege, are not the days of Alfred, wr hen a fair woman, with a

c 3 ( So )

purse of gold in her hand, could traverse

the kingdom in safety. Impunity for one crime encourages the commission of another ; and he who has the temerity to brave the slumbering law, by concerting

a deed of violence, is withheld from the

accomplishment of his designs by no other

restriction than their impracticability.

The King replied, that he perceived he

alluded to the Earl of Surrey, and of- fered his services as a mediator. He de-

clared that the first wish of his heart was peace. Peace with his subjects, peace

-with all the world. But the peace for which Edward sighed was not the secu-

rity that rewards glorious and virtuous exertion, nor the blessed pacification

announced at the advent of incarnate

Deity. His desires pointed to the tor- por of voluptuousness, the slumber of

sloth, undisturbed by those cares which delight ambition^ and stimulate fortitude.

From, a wish to lower the high reproving ( # ) tone of Lancaster's virtue .to the standard of the parasites who misgoverned his ductile mind, the King desired to keep him and his. consort exposed to the at- mosphere of a licentious court, which, joined to the blandishments of the fair

Alicia, must, he thought, transform the austere censor into a contented copyist of the habits he formerly despised. He offered his mediation between the rival earls for a similar reason, namely, that Lancaster, bribed by the undisturbed possession of his wife, might not oppose his attempt to retain Gaveston, which was the first measure he intended to pro- pose to the parliament. Lancaster answered, that the high rank which he held in the state made it im- possible for him to fear Lord Surrey. If after liberating Lady Alicia from vows, which her premature age rendered nuga- tory on her part, he was disposed to question the use she had made of her c 4 ( 32 )

freedom, his sword was as long and as

keen as that earl's, and liis vassals as numerous. Nor would the law, which

spread its ample shield over the meanest,

refuse its protection to the first subject in

the realm. If, on the other side, Surrey

' desired reconciliation, he was willing to give the hand of amity. But retaining

his opinion, that even in this latter case

it was inexpedient to fan the flame which want of fuel would soonest extinguish,

he should deposit his dearest treasure at

Kenilworth ; where the company of his

adopted sister, and august mother, would afford that endearing solace which an ingenuous mind vainly seeks in the hurry of mixed society.

Had Lancaster intimated his intention of retiring from the management of pub- lic affairs, and secluding himself with his fair bride, most willingly would the King have commuted for the " eclipse of that bright star,*' on seeing at the same time ( 33 ) the portentous planet, whose influence malign he most dreaded, retire from his immediate horizon. But he knew the man. Immoveably steady to his prin- ciples, he would remain a watcher of his actions ; a perpetual monitor to remind him of his promises, and to pre- vent their violation. It was only by Alicia's influence that his character could be transformed ; and that influence would be less efficacious, if only exerted at occa- sional interviews, than if uniformly acting upon his mind in all the various modula- tions of humour and feeling. Alicia too, young and flexible, might adopt the man* ners, as well as the principles, of Queen Blanche, and confirm the patriot she was desired to relax. For all these reasons she must be kept at court.

Unwilling to have recourse to the harshness of a command, the King re- sorted to less peremptory measures. He

closeted Surrey \ calmed the vehemence

c 5 t 34 y

of his rage ; disclosed the line of conduct he wished him to adopt ; and soon won his apparent coincidence. The inter- ference of the Queen was again solicited.

Never did Isabella exert it so willingly : the society of Alicia was indeed her pecu- liar delight* It had been publicly an- nounced that she was likely to produce an heir to England ; and she claimed the privileges annexed to her situation. She intreated, she conjured Lancaster, as a knight bound to a courteous attention to the requests of a princess, not to deprive her of her beloved friend, at a period when the solace of her society was ne- cessary to- her life. He did not know how very apt great ladies are to die and

recover ; but that the concession might come from her whose acquiescence would make it more peculiarly grateful, he an- swered, that Alicia should determine her future residence* Perhaps he would have

yielded with less difficulty, had he nof. C 35 ) esteemed it an important duty to watch over the lapses of his own heart, lest, if he did not sometimes deny himself the solace of her society, his strong affection for his enchanting partner should with- draw his mind from those stern exertions of talent and integrity which the times required. In the meantime Warwick, rejoicing that the most formidable impediment to his hopes was removed, while he congra- tulated the young Countess of Lancaster on her happiness, alluded to his own amour. He described Kenil worth as a paradise fit for angels, and inhabited by beings of another world. He sketched the Queen of Navarre with great strength of colouring; but, undesignedly, made her rather grand than amiable. He dwelt largely on the virtues of Matilda, -7- his Matilda he now ventured to call her; —and in the openness of fraternal confidence,

and the fullness of his regard for that c 6 ( 35 >

gentle maiden's peace, he endeavoured

to awaken Alicia's sympathy for a rival, whom, secure in honourable possession, she could not fear, by owning the love he supposed she entertained for Lan-

caster. Voluble in the praises of one whom he avowed to be the mistress of his heart, he forgot that the theme which to him was music might be discordant to his auditor. He spoke of Matilda as a

perfect being, whom it was an impos-

sibility to emulate, and a duty to ad-

mire ; whose love was all intellectual;

whose manners were entirely faultless. He knew that they would be firm friends; but by the well remembered delicacy of maiden pride, he adjured Alicia to touch lightly on the topick which was most

grateful to herself; to avoid the praises

of her own beloved Lancaster ; and to interest Matilda about Beauchamp, who

only lived for her, though bound by her ri- gorous injunctions to avoid the subject of ( 37 )

love. Lady Lancaster faintly'promised ob- servance. She saw nothing so rapturously

transporting in the paradise of Kenilvvorth.

The turrets might be loftier, the arras more expensive, the park more spacious, and the covered parterres more curiously ornamented than those belonging to any of her father's castles, but the eye soon grew satiated with gazing on unvarying wonders. He described no stage plays and jugglers, minstrels or masking balls, or tournaments; Queen Blanche might be exemplary for discretion and charity, so was her own mother, the Lady Mar- garet ; and yet, with a sigh that spoke no pleasing recollection of the maternal character, she fancied that her royal

friend, Isabella, was the most agreeable

companion. As for the fair paragon of perfection, the visionary captive of her

unseen lord, and now self-devoted to singleness for his sake, though she was carious to see the features which had ( 38 ) failed to erase the impression of her own y early habit had rendered the society of those who conformed to her opinions, and reflected her manners, so easy and pleasant, that she had no wish to ex-

change it for the conversation of persons who, by Beauchamp's account, arrogated

superiority ; and, under the officious pre-

text of improvement, might be imper-

tinent, or at least would, by their as- sumption of perfection, impose on her a painful restraint, A perpetual mental

essay, purifying the thoughts of all adhe-

sive dross, was a troublesome, mortifying, occupation,, tending either to insincerity

or undue humiliation. It was much more agreeable to associate with those

who let the mixed metal pass without applying the touchstone, and even took

it thankfully, though, perhaps, they paid

a still baser currency in return. If she was displeased, vapoured, (great ladies were, even then, subject to vapours dur- C 39 ) ing an interruption of amusements,) mor- tified, or indisposed, Dorcas always tried to appease, and Beatrice attempted to divert her. In fine, though the Savoy- palace (her lord's town residence) might not be so spacious as Kenilworth, nor

Oueen Isabella so learned and wise as her royal aunt, nor her own ladies so gentle, delicate, and refined as Matilda^, her ideas of retirement were so con- nected with restraint,, mortification, and cha-Grin as the associates of a ladv in her baronial castle, that when Lancaster submitted her future residence to her choice, she only asked, if she might con- sider herself as secure from the violence

of Surrey ; and when her husband indig- nantly checked an apprehension injurious to his rank and power, she decided to accompany the court to London, with a promptitude which staggered his faith in that elevated turn of mind which he hitherto thought the basis of her fchsi- C 40 )

racter, and he inquired the reasons of her preference.

Alicia, though a self-deceiver, was above the baseness of trying to deceive another. Among the motives which hsd decided her choice, was her reluctance

to leave her lord ; this she avowed, or rather implied, with a smile and blush of

chaste affection. She then pleaded her

duty to the Queen ; but she faultered as she spoke, sensible that to give that name to self-indulgence was disingenuous. On

the claims of filial piety she could speak

with frankness and volubility ; the Earl of Lincoln's advanced age, declining health, and destitution of domestic com-

forts. This argument was sufficiently cogent to silence the husband's appre-

hensions ; and the fair bride, unpractised

in the duty of self-examination, and ig- norant how little weight these reasons really had on her decision, forbore to mention others, which almost without ( 4J )

her consciousness had really influenced

her. " Yet her sincerity was hurt at the transported admiration her lord bestowed on her duteous observance. Though a severe worshipper of truth, he adopted a

style of ilorid compliment. He called

her, not only the delight of his soul, but the guide of his conduct. " We must,'* he said, " divide the task of rendering

your Tenerable father happy ; and if my

public occupations often call me from

the couch on which, at the close of a long useful life, the warrior rests his toil-worn form, meditating the plans to which I must give efficiency, sweetest

Alicia, account the additional visit which your tenderness pays him in my name, among the numerous undischarged obli- gations your happy husband will ever owe you."

Still Lancaster, though he doubted not his consort's prudence, felt apprehensions which he knew it would be indecorous, ( 4* ) and perhaps unworthy of himself and her, to acknowledge. The first time they met at court, Surrey held out his hand with an air of frankness, reminded him of his conduct at the tournament, and with well-tempered flattery, protested he was the only man in England whom he could patiently see reaping the profit of that conspiracy, against his love and his honour, which had been formed by base slander and narrow bigotry. But though his pride was not hurt by a pre- ference, which being universal must be just, it was only his patriotism that had reluctantly counselled him to overlook the wrong old Lincoln had done him. This he should bear in mind, and perhaps when England wore a better aspect, his sense of it might speak in thunder. But the Earl of Lancaster was his friend, and he knew the force of that obligation on an honourable mind. There was much in this which that Earl disliked, which, 6 ( 43 ) added to the presence of Gavestoa, who still loitered near the King, gave him such a disgust to the court as, perhaps, gene- rated fears and suspicions for which there was no just ground. Had not Alicia been educated in a guarded retirement? Had not her mind been early imbued with the strictest principles of patriotism and piety ? Had she not refused, from the best mo- tives, a man of corrupt character ; and with unstained propriety passed warily through the dangerous labyrinth of ad- miration, so fatal to female rectitude and peace ? Even in that preference which she now so sweetly avowed, had she not been so coyly secret that his own guarded observance was long ere it detected her latent love ? It was impossible therefore that pleasure could debase or alienate her heart. "Nothing but violence could tear

her from him ; and against that, while he affected a perfect security, he resolved to use every precaution his wisapm could ( 44 ) suggest, or his power supply. In all other respects he would leave her sole mistress of her own conduct.. A court residence being thus deter- mined on, JLady Lancaster's first use of her independence was to arrange her household ; and here she found able assistants and active advisers in the Queen and her own waiting damsels. The most difficult point was the confessor. Father Ambrose was imposed upon her by the

Countess her mother ; but with united voice the whole of her attendants pro- tested they could not bear him. His look mildewed joy ; his voice was the alarum of despair. Beatrice vowed she never could go to confession if he continued in the chair ; and Dorcas spoke with horror of a penance which he had enjoined her, never to read a legend in which was any thing about love. She had tried to soften the rigor of this doom, by carefully obli- terating the word wherever she met with C 45 ) it'; and now her conscience reproached her for defacing holy records. The Earl

3f Lancaster heard with wonder of his bride's objections to the early guide of her conscience ; but Alicia persuaded him that his austere manners, and rugged temper, impeded rather than inspired devotion. She further said, it would be wrong to mortify the good man by fixing him in a spot where he would be con- tinually turning up his eyes, and railing at abominations. He would be infinitely happier among the ruins of Bangor, planning the site of the monastery her mother intended to found, to pray for the soul of her brother, and all the fa- mily. A learned Augustine had been recommended to her, devout, polite, and liberal, Sir Hilary by name, humane in his character, and pleasing in his man- ners. In him piety appeared in a decent coif, and did not perpetually protrude ( 46 )

the exterminating baldness of the mo- nastic tonsure. As soon as the young Countess had arranged her establishment, she laid the plan before her lord. Beagles, falcons, palfreys, pages, and damsels were passed over with rapid assent. But he paused at some subsequent appointments. Either from pity of Lady Audley's sorrows, in- dignation at Surrey's crimes, or from the better motive of benevolence to a blind old man, she had hitherto retained Lloyd in her service as her own minstrel, and had often employed the hour of twilight in hearing him chaunt his piteous ditty; but she now thought his furrowed face and bending form, would ill become the laced ruff, and rich livery of green and gold, in which, like other court ladies, she meant to attire her chief bard : be- side, his one tune was so simple and so monotonous that, though it might draw tears from Mabel and Humphry Lack- ( 47 ) ington at Pontefract, it would make ladies and knights laugh who were ac- customed to madrigals and roundelays.

Lloyd therefore received an ample largess, and was safely sent back to his own coun- try ; but in his stead the lady retained, beside the chief minstrel, (an- eminent troubadour, recommended by the Queen,) three trumpeters, a tabourer, a lutist, and a player on the rebeck. Lancaster counted over the number seven on the musical list. He tolerated state ; he con- sidered that a prince of the blood ought to encourage talent, and keep a noble establishment ; but he thought seven musicians,, who had no other employ- ment, must very amply supply every purpose of liberality and harmony. A set of stage-players was next upon the list ; but here Alicia professed to be very moderate. Her company was to be less, by a third, than the Queen's, and she only wished to retain them in her. ( 48 |

Service from Allhallows to Shrovetide, and from Easter to Whitsuntide. At other times they might travel and collect contributions among the nobility. Lord Lancaster doubted the expediency of partially employing men who must, at other seasons, be itinerants, especially when the state was in extreme need of soldiers, husbandmen, and artificers. But then these people were brought up to no other employ, they were selected with especial attention to their morals and abilities, and had covenanted to confine their exhibitions to mysteries and moralities, except on holidays^ when some pleasant interlude, representing the burning of a castle, or the disenchanting a fair lady who had been transformed into a serpent for pride and cruelty, were permitted by all except by the most rigid devotees. The Earl nodded his assent^ and the stage-players were entered on his household book. ( 49 )

A dwarf came next, a most diverting inoffensive creature, procured with the greatest difficulty, and less, by an inch, than the Queen's. Lord Lancaster asked his use, and said that his mother had no such appendage. Perhaps not. She might dislike the fashion, and yet it was very general. Even the Princess Margaret of

Gloucester, unhappy lady ! though all the world knew that her husband was pro- verbially disobliging, morose, and negli- gent, had a little antic of this description, quite a curiosity for ugliness and defor- mity, who rode on a tall hobby, armed cap-a-pee with a sword of lath and shield of rushes, pretending to be her knight and champion, ready to shed his blood in her defence. Many of the court ladies kept pairs of dwarfs, and supplied then* friends with the unadulterated succession of that choice variety of the human species, from their nurseries ; but she only wished for one dwarf to carry her

VOL. II. D ( 5« )

Icelandic lap-dog on a cloth of gold cushion. " Dwarf— Icelandic dog — cloth of gold cushion 1" It seemed as

if the blood of the Piantagenets would not endure much more; for the Earl bit his lips as he ordered his clerk to note them all down. The next retainer was a juggler. His, Alicia owned, was but a contemptible amusement ; but her damsels were irre- sistibly importunate to be allowed one, and she consented, as a compromise to get rid of their desire to have a sooth- sayer. The Earl rose from his chair of state, and closed the book, observing, he would not permit a trader in forbid- den arts in his family. Alicia joined in reprobating spells, incantations, conjura- tions, and all unlawful means of com- pelling the stars to shed benign influence, or to foretel events by disturbing the peaceful dead, and then, with a smile, observed, she had now only to name the ( 5i ) especial attendants on her person. Be- sides embroiderers, tailors, the corset- maker, and tire-maker, the keeper of her wardrobe, and the burnisher of her jewels, she must have a compounder of cosmetics, a distiller of sweet waters, and a skillful leech, adroit in the science of fabricating and tempering medicated baths.

The Earl dismissed his secretary, and, turning on his Countess a more austere

look than any he » had ever worn since their marriage, gravely repeated the list she had just enumerated. Alicia answered, that she believed some of these retainers were newly imported luxuries : as to cosmetics, she never used them, nor did her health require medicated baths ; but the Queen told her she must have them, if not for use, yet for state, to encourage ingenious people, and to appear as splen- did and liberal as the rest of the blood royal. D 2

LIBRARY ( 5* )

Lancaster answered, that nature was simple but grand in all her embellish- ments ; while her bold impugners, (for so he called them,) by the minuteness of their petty contrivances, amused the fancy but chilled the affections. He pointed to two pictures in the apartment where they sat, Magdalen wiping the feet of her Lord, and Catharine awaiting martyr- dom, " Can imagination," said he, " conceive two forms more exquisite,

the one breathing the love of a for- given penitent, the other, the rap-

tures of a soul expecting instant beati- tude? Has the painter implied that these holy women owe any portion of theij: attractions to the compounder of cosmetics, or the maker of tires and cor- sets ? Observe the simple elegance of Magdalen's robe, the easy fall and graceful bend of her redundant tresses,

how they twine round her finger as she applies them to the sacred foot, ( 53 ) which, with the other hand, -she clasps to her contrite bosom. Now turn to the

martyr. The broken rack lies near, which the heavenly guardian, hovering in the air, who waits to bear her pure spirit to paradise, has just destroyed, to evince

his divine power, and consummate the guilt of persecuting Maxentius. The

saint discovers no joy at the miracle which has saved her from torture, no

fear of the unsheathed sword which the executioner holds over her head,

while, with rude hand, he rolls up fier

locks, like a golden coronet, round her brows, baring her neck for the deadly blow. The eyes of the expectant mar- tyr are fixed on heaven. She has no

remaining affections for that earth which seems scarcely pressed by her feet, so

visibly does devotion raise and atte- nuate her almost etherial form. Save the chaste fear of exposure, marked by her grasping her robe on her bosom,

D 3 ( 54 ),

her soul seems to have forgotten that it is

yet in the body. Yet, how lovely is that

form, how just its proportions ! Can the luxurious fascinations of the Queen you so much admire and so closely imitate,

or even your own still unadulterated

beauty, compare with its symmetry ?

Yet its attire is a tunic, a mantle, a veil,

and a wimple ; instead of a stomacher,

stiff with gems, the cincture of the un-

obtrusive girdle is only marked by the depending rosary, and the compression ofjthe tunic. Imitate the dress of these

pictures if you would be thought attrac-

tive ; if beautiful, study their character.

It is the sentiment of devotion impressed

on those faces, which bestows their soul- subduing charm. Let piety then be your daily cosmetic, wash your face every morning with the tears of Mag-

dalen, paint it with the holy glow of Catherine, and rather than encourage your fellow creatures to waste their time ( 55 ) and talents on arts of seduction which you profess to despise, employ the wealth you possess in being the patroness of useful inventions, and teach the prin- cesses you are called to imitate, a more honourable ambition."

This was new language to Alicia, somewhat ungallant from a bridegroom, and rather indicative of the sternness which Beatrice prognosticated. Yet he was so discriminating (for the compli- ment he had paid her at the Queen's expence was not overlooked,) that she would attribute his want of taste to the singularity of his education. His mother must be an odd character. She was glad she was not to reside with one who would have been a very Father Ambrose, except that she could not be ordered to her dormitory, when she grew very troublesome. Though most anxious not to offend, she yet ventured on an expostulation. d 4 ( 56)

People might be very good without aim- ing to imitate saints and martyrs ; and, in indifferent things, conformity to a prevail- ing custom implied courtesy, as much as singularity did pride. To divert unsea- sonable gravity, she rallied Lancaster on the dress of his mother's ward, Matilda, and revenged his reproving glance at her peaked shoes and turret- built coiffure, by supposing the rural maid still wore the Saxon sandal, snood, and bodkin. She would sketch her por- trait to divert the Queen, and make her send for the original.

" My royal mother,' ' resumed Lan-

caster, " preserves, in her court, the habits and manners of her sister, Queen

Eleanor of Castile, whose connubial faith and decorous virtues charmed the heart of that King, who, administering justice in his plain gaberdine, asked a rich-

ly attired priest, if God was a re- garder of splendid habits. Himself an ( 57 ) example to his subjects by his noble sim- plicity, he pointed out the attire as well as the virtues of his lamented consort, to the imitation of unborn ages, by the structures he erected wherever her revered remains rested in their way to the mauso- leum of the Kings of England. At these crosses Edward called on his subjects to pray for the speedy beatitude of his constant companion, the endeared asso- ciate of all his dangers and glories ; she whose fortitude never shrunk from peril, whether it wore the shape of an assas- sinating dervise, of a Pagan soldan, or a prince, falsely calling himself most chris- tian, who basely endeavoured to plunder the hero whom he had deserted. By sea, by land, wherever Edward fought, toiled, conquered, or suffered, Eleanora, like the angel of consolation, ministered to his wants. And even the incensed elements seemed to respect their insepa- rable attachment, for the thunderbolt

*> 5 ( 58 ) which fell at their feet as they sat fondly conversing at Bourdeaux, spared their sacred lives, that they might a little longer shew to an admiring world a great prince, proud of being faithful to a princess who despised all meretricious arts, and preserved her husband's heart, by simplicity, chastity, and obedience. As often as you see the sculptured figure of Eleanora, pay homage to its matronly graces, respect the accom- plished native of a distant clime, who left the bright sun of her own country and gave her heart to England, and an example, eminent even in a country most fertile in domestic virtues. Some of her daughters, by their high alliances, have filled foreign courts with her praises; the Countesses of Gloucester and Here- ford lived examples to our own ; and the pious nun at Amesbury, continues an intercessive saint, to supplicate that the full vial of heaven's vengeance may not ( 59 ) be poured on the degenerate nation, which has forgot the example of her parents. The royal Eleanora was not a saint or a martyr ; I may therefore pro- pose her as a fit object of your virtuous emulation. She was the friend of my illustrious mother, and the model by which the manners and mind of Matilda were fashioned."

d 6 ( 6* )

CHAP. XIV.

Domestic happiness, thou only bliss Of Paradise, that has surviv'd the fall; Tho' few now taste thee unimpaired and pure*

Or tasting, long enjoy thee ! too infirm, Or too incautious to preserve thy sweets Unmix'd with drops of bitter. Cowpe*.

*117E must now return to the situation

of public affairs. It has been seen that the Queen's wrongs erected a third party, some of whom were stimulated by the gallant spirit of chivalry, while others were urged on by emotions less pure, and audacious hopes inspired by the condescension and confidence of injured royalty, seeking protection from an inferior. Elated by the number of partisans, whom her smiles and tears had collected and precipitated by their ( 6i ) rash counsels, this high-spirited princess nourished a deep and deadly resentment against her husband. As her years in- creased and her beauty ripened, her pas- sions gathered strength, and the dark traits of her character became visible. She was no longer the weeping, trem- bling child, easily irritated and soon appeased ; but the daring intriguer, de- termined to employ against her enemies, not only those means of defence which

prudence suggests and honour justifies, but every stratagem which promised to

procure their destruction ; careless how

far it might tend to embroil the state, or

what danger and odium it brought on

one whose interests reflection ought to have told her were inseparably connected with her own. She hoped to prevail on the Earl of Lancaster to become her par-

tizan. Befides being the first subject of the realm, he was venerated as the moderator ef the differences between the King and ( 62 ) his barons, to whose steadiness it was chiefly owing, that the parliament was kept firm to the terms of the convention at Wal- lingford, compelling the King, though with every sign of weak reluctance and undiminished regard, to dismiss Gaveston to his Guienne appointment. Lan- caster's high character was so univer- sally appreciated, that whatever cause he espoused, rectitude and respectability seemed allied to his determination. As Isabella's sagacity led her to discover the superiority of these qualities to those of the witlings by whom he was scoffed at, she checked the ridicule of her frivolous attendants, and treated him with a win- ning deference which might have caught a less guarded heart in the toils of dan- gerous beauty. But though disposed to shew the wife of his sovereign all those distinctions which knighthood imposed, its decorous spirit, joined to the re- straints of influential piety, made him ( 63 )

look on the Queen as a woman whose

dangerous beauty and unfortunate situa- tion, required a greater share of pru- dence and forbearance than she possess- ed. Too discriminative to confound the

suavity of highly polished manners, ac- quired in the most refined of European courts, with that inbred gentleness,

whose meek dejection seems rather to

fear its own unworthiness, than to excite vengeance for its wrongs,—he saw in the unhappily wedded Margaret of Glou- cester, an object far more likely to touch his heart, though her dim eyes cast no lustre on a cheek destitute of the rose of beauty, and not one irresistible grace sported in her tresses or floated in her

timid air. While Isabella, quick at dis-

covering insults, and detecting folly, shewed by her eye and gesture, even when her tongue was silent, that she despised the unworthy prince by whom

- she was neglected 9 the wife of Gaveston ( H )

evinced, by all her actions and looks, the devotion of genuine love, unex- tinguished by the most cruel wrongs.

If she had a delight, it was to hear him

commended ; and if, in the cruel ship- wreck of her happiness, she retained a

fear, it was that her brother or any of her kindred should seek to avenge her wretchedness. On her Lancaster had often gazed, while she, heart-broken, yet faintly smiling, stood by the side of a man from whom she had received the most galling reproach, affecting an air of cordiality and happiness; endeavour- ing, by the courtesy of her manners, to soften the offensive freedom of his ; and concealing the sacrifices she had made to the wantonness of his waste, by placing her scanted retinue and mean appear- ance to the account of choice rather than necessity. As Lancaster viewed the martyr-like sufferings of this lady, he saw not the Queen ; and only the C 65 ) measureless content which beamed in the smiles of his Alicia, could persuade him to think even her more attractive.

Perceiving that the power of this young beauty was not diminished by marriage, the Queen endeavoured to employ her blandishments to induce the Earl of Lan- caster to declare himself of her party.

The friendship which she had felt for De Lacy's daughter was limited to the com- mon acceptation of that commodious term. She liked her as the most lively and agreeable of her attendants, as having invention to contrive pleasant amuse- ments, and talents to enliven conversa- tion and dissipate chagrin ; as one who had entered into her wrongs and mortifi- cations with the impetuosity incident to lively sensibility, while her wit enabled her either to ridicule the King or mortify his favourite. It was for these reasons

Isabella declared she could not live with- out her dearest Lady Lancaster. But ( 66 )

when she saw her a beloved wife, and influencing even often , capable of the superior judgment of her husband, in- stead [of endeavouring to improve her own less happy lot, the contrast of their situations gradually changed the light preference of convenience into indiffer- ence, hatred, and malignant envy, still concealed under that gay amenity of manner which in this Princess united an angel's sweetness with a murderer's heart.

While she had hopes to render Alicia a decoy to ensnare Lancaster, the Queen shewed no abatement in her exterior marks of friendship. " You are happy," she would say to her ; " the first man in

England lives for you alone ; and felicity has its usual effect on your memory : you forget your afflicted friend." The young Countess vehemently re- pelled the accusation.

" Then," said the Queen, " am 1 1® ( 6; ) believe that your influence is exerted in vain to render him less unjust to me ?

Do you ever tell him, that his praise is my darling theme ? Why, then, on his part that cold courtesy, and those reprov- ing looks, which indicate abhorrence ?

I would regard him as my dearest friend j I would entrust him with my most trea- sured secrets : he should be my coun- sellor, my monitor, my champion ; but he shuns my proffered grace, and evades my supplicatory pursuit. Is it 'from his devotednecs to his unworthy kinsman ?

I flatter myself, my soul is more con- genial to the high-minded Lancaster, and my understanding better capable of being enlightened by his wisdom." At a time when the Queen's vehement resentments of the King's behaviour had produced a temporary separation, Alicia repeated this complaint to the Earl of Lancaster.

" On what services," said he, " would ( 68 ) she employ me ? Tender to her Grace my humble duty, and say I am ready to mediate between her and the King, and would gladly bear from her a submissive proposal of conciliation.' }

" Submission !" replied Alicia, " to a contemptible debauchee, who, absorbed in the grossest indigencies, neglects and misuses the fairest princess in Christen- dom ? No ; the message she would send would be defiance !" Lancaster threw a reproving look on his consort, and bade her sketch the at- titude of a defying lady. Recollecting herself instantly, with arch vivacity, she

snatched his sword ; but as she tried to

wave it in mimick menace, the weighty fauchion twisted in her grasp: she dropped her sprained arm, while pain compelled

the starting tear.

" Alas !" said Lancaster, " that im-

becility should desert its own weapons : the tear has conquered, where the de- ( 69 ) fiance failed. I will attend the Queen, and hear the secret with which I only, of all the courtiers, have not been fa- voured from her own lips, but which my simplicity has, nevertheless, discovered, namely, that she is a bad wife to a bad husband.

When Lancaster waited on Isabel-

la, her studied preparation for receiv-

ing him, shewed that she meant to work upon his feelings. Her dress was artfully negligent, her hair disordered,

her cheek wet with tears, and the infant prince reclined upon her bosom. The future hero of Cressy slept, unconscious of those high destinies by which he was designed to revenge his mother's crimes on the country that gave her birth. She seemed to regard the child with the fondest maternal tenderness, but her eye watched the effect of her caresses on the Earl^ and thus proved ( 70 )

that they were not the genuine impulses of nature. " Illustrious and right worthy Prince,"

said she, " it suits well with your accus-

tomed goodness to visit the orphan and g widow in their affliction V The Earl kissed his crucifix with fer- vour. " May the blessed Son of Mary,"

said he, " and all the holy saints long keep that implied calamity from Your Highness, and from England." " Shew us," returned the Queen, 4€ the difference between a deserted wife and a widow : and unless you come here as the King's advocate, we will convince you that supremacy in wretchedness is the painful pre-eminence the former may claim, in such greater proportion as the perverse malignity of Satan inflicts more stripes than the fatherly chastening of Heaven." " But the grave," answered the Earl,

" is mute and deaf; no supplications ( 7i ) can unlock its inexorable door, and its prisoners can speak neither of forgive- ness nor hope. Yet, like the white alb of baptism, the shroud has a purifying effect on our remembrance, hallowing those it enfolds. Hard and relentless must they be who can draw aside its curtain to glut the eye with the awful sight of hu- man infirmity, gone to attend its final audit, incapable alike of vindicating or reforming its actions. Proud and in- corrigible must be that heart which, when standing by the grave of an enemy, does not change reproach into self- accusation, and the memory of past injuries into con- trite prayers for forgiveness, As to the office you assign me, of being the King's advocate, gracious Lady, when truth does not permit loyalty to be eloquent, it can yet be silent."

5 u Noble Lancaster, ' replied the

Queen, " you then admit that the in- juries of Isabella have been beyond suf- ( 72 )

ferance. I came to England in my childhood, the darling daughter of a

powerful king. I came like the peace,

of which I was the pledge, fair in form,

and breathing good will i to all I saw. t But as my understanding ripened, my dream of happiness fled away. The pur-

suits of the vulgar, and the society of the

vicious engrossed my husband : his heart,

his time, his solicitude, were all devoted

to pleasures in which 1 could not join, to conversations whose buffoonery offended

taste, whose grossness violated delicacy. My espoused protector abandoned me to the malignity of those whose influence I

sought to counteract ; and he made

their enmity the more acute, by being

the first to hold me out to contume- ly. I was a sovereign queen, and yet

restricted in all my actions ; a youth- ful beauty, and neglected. Even when the existence of the heir of your crown

depended on my life, the King left me ;

( 73 )

exposed to real peril, to escort to the

sea his Gascon parasite, the companion of his intemperate orgies. Yes, royal boy, a jester was dearer to thy unnatural father than the lily that France placed in his bosom, or the illustrious line of Plan- tagenet, of which thou art the treasured germ. But the hour of endurance is succeeded by that of vengeance. I have written to my father ; I have stated my wrongs, and invoked his aid. It will, doubt not, be prompt as my desires. Start n6t, my Lord of Lancaster, the in- terests of this child shall make me guard the integrity of the crown of England and that its tarnished lustre may resume the brightness it boasted in the days of Edward the Great, even for that especial purpose, I would place its guardianship in your hands, that it may be preserved for this your young monarch, who shall owe it to your prowess, and be schooled to wear it royally, by your wisdom."

VOL. II. £ ( 74 )

Lancaster's heart sunk within him, as he listened to the Queen's rash designs* He smote his breast with energy. " Gra-

cious Mary/' said he, " why have I lived

to see this hour, when I must either ac- cuse my Oueen of high treason, or see the realm of England trodden under foot by invading Frenchmen, and infuriate

insurgents, because the King and his consort cannot imitate the wisdom of the cottage pair, who finding the yoke could not be taken from their shoulders, agreed

to endure it, and did so, till they found it so pleasant, that, 'tis said, the survivor died of grief for his lost partner."

" Come," continued he, lifting the babe from the lap of Isabella, " come, most dear descendant of a long line of princes, and plead with me to your royal parents, forbidding them to throw away a kingdom's welfare, and their own content. Speak of the con- ;

< 75 ) nubial felicity of your grandsire, — that theme of Europe's admiration. Say,

also, how kindly the hand of Eleanora of Provence weeded the thorns that rankled

in the crown of Henry of Winchester. The nation rose in rebellion, but she was faithful. He was imprisoned, wounded,

insulted, but she shared his fortunes

and when, at last, the misguided prince

sought that peace in the grave which the

earth denied, tell thy mother that his

faithful widow, though still in the prime of her days, renounced the world, as a

joyless void, and spent twenty years in contemplative seclusion, praying for the peace of her husband's soul. His-

tory records her Henry as v/eak and negligent, an infant in policy, charmed

by the baubles of royalty, a syphon, skil- fully played by the papacy, to divert the stream of English opulence into Saint

Peter's patrimony. But in her fyes he E 2 ( 76 ) was great and magnanimous; for true love is a potent enchanter, and can create a peopled city in the wastes of Zaarah."

The Queen listened to this tender yet forcible appeal, but it was with increased envy of Alicia, not with subdued disgust of the King. She pleaded, that she was the victim of state-policy, not like the princesses he alluded to, the choice of affection. She admitted, that her hus- band never possessed her regard, and asked why she should bestow what was neither wooed for, nor valued. She la- mented that though born with exquisite sensibility, her heart must be a stranger to the soft affections. Love, she said, would have created patience.

" let patience create love. Shall the world say, Your Highness found it more difficult to subdue irritability than other princely sufferers have done to heal, or ( 77 ) rather to hide the wounds of tenderness, O respect the motives of a faithful subject, if zeal urges me to discourteous boldness.

Try, I beseech you, if our too yielding sovereign is obdurate only to you. Let me place this sweet minister of concilia- tion in the arms of his father, to tell him that his mother weeps, weeps secretly and sincerely. Blessed be Your Majesty ! those gracious tears justify my presumption. If he returns that answer which my confi- dence in his inborn royalty warrants, I will myself set off for France, bearing your signet in pledge of my veracity, and remind your father of the fate of those who interfere in domestic feuds j con- juring him not to think so meanly of his daughter, as that she would consume our land with firebrands, when she has brought forth a prince to govern us. I will tell him, too, that your present hap- piness wants but one addition, namely, ( 78 ) that he should forget you 'ever believed yourself wretched,"

" But," said the Queen, " if your suit should fail ?"

" Not since Your Grace has power to engage a wiser avenger, and a more powerful guardian," replied the Earl, " even the King of Kings, to whom princes are subject; on earth, to his, written word, — hereafter, to his tribunal. For my own part, I will not be the guardian of a minor prince, but the faith- ful executor of the wise measures of a ( 79 ) potent sovereign. Royal Lady, I must bear the Prince to the King, not as a rival come to dispute his crown, but to remove the misconceptions which those, most of all, must lament, who, unhap- pily, persuade themselves resentment is

5 ' easier than reconciliation. " Go, persuasive Lancaster," said the Queen, " but beware of committing my cause by undue concessions. In all our contentions I cannot recollect one instance in which not only the first provocation, but the acrimony of the dispute did not proceed from the King." The Earl smiled at this instance or feminine tenacity, and observed, that a visit from His Ma- jesty would probably prove refreshing to her memory, or at least convince her, that they who were most apt to offend, were also most expert at conciliation. " Stay," said the Queen, while a smile

and a blush gave the consummate charm

to her beauty : " I have the curiosity

js 4 ( 8o ) to know if when you dispute with

Alicia you are always victorious, or is it 1 my unaptness at argument that makes me so easily defeated ?" " We never dispute/' replied Lan- caster. " Never dispute," said she, and the roseate glow gave way to the pale hue of envy. She added, tc but your loves are at present young ;" and recollecting herself, proceeded in a dignified accent, " To you, my Lord, we intrust the Prince, and we shall expect you safely to restore him to our own care." " The gracious inclinations of the King will re-unite himself to his wife and his son," answered he ; " but as in three days I hope to breathe the air of your native France, what pledge shall I bear from Your Grace to prove the confidence with which I am honoured V The Queen was tempted to send her ring of espousals, as a reproach to her father for having bestowed her on an un« ( 8i )

worthy partner ; but fearing to provoke a stern rebuke from that virtue which she at once dreaded and admired, she gave him a broach bearing her device, a lily formed of pearls, encircled by a zone of emeralds.

" Bear my fond greetings to fair France," said she, with recollections that revived better feelings. M Many a cloudy day has been my lot since my father bore his happy girl from the banks of the Seine to the Garonne, while the mild sun of winter illumined the clear sky of Gascony, to grace my espousals. Four kings stood at the high altar ; three queens en- couraged me with their smiles, while I received and kissed the consecrated pall.

All that was beautiful, noble and brave,

crowded the cathedral. I looked up

timidly to the man for whom I had re- nounced country, kindred, and friends.

He was in the morn of youth ; so benign

was his aspect, so graceful his figure,

5 ( 82 ) that I scarce sighed over the sacrifice I had made. I had often heard the English called the lords of human kind, and I supposed a Princess could never want a friend among that generous nation." " Let Your Grace discard the unseemly humility v/hich makes you suppose your- self friendless/' answered the Earl of

Lancaster ; " for our domestic troubles rarely require active interference, or more potent remedies than those assuasives our own prudence may furnish. At least forbear to call those friends who would persuade you to forget that, pledged as you are to England and to its King, your glory and happiness are inseparable from theirs." The Earl of Lancaster conveyed the young prince to Eltham, whither the

King had moodily retired, and requested an audience in the name of his first sub- ject, who came to complain of a grievance which His Majesty only could redress.

3 ( «3 )

Surrounded by those base spirits who founded their importance on separating

the pliant, indolent prince from his truest

friends, and in fomenting the royal broils,

this message was easily interpreted into a presumptuous arrogation of importance. But the house of Lancaster stood too near

the throne for its head to be treated with

disrespect ; and when he appeared with

his future King in his arms, his accusers shrunk confounded, the heart of Edward

melted, and, receiving his child from his

faithful friend, he inquired, " What would our noble cousin ?"

" Your private ear, Sire," said Lan- caster, and the courtiers withdrew.

Clouded as were the King's intellects,

by a long course of inactivity and indul-

gence, he felt ashamed of being surprized

in his luxurious retreat ; and surmising the intended request, determined to pre- vent the complaints he anticipated, by

stating his own. He thanked the Earl e 6 ( 84 )

for taking the Prince from the Queen, admired the child's improvement, and lamented the imperious spirit of Isabella, who had reproved him with so much in-

solence as to induce the necessity of sepa-

ration. Lancaster listened in silence, which the King interpreted in his own favour, and proceeded to narrate a plot of th^Queen's, which his emissaries had just discovered, to escape with the child into France, and excite her father to in- vade England, to prevent which he had

also determined to put her under an ar-

rest, and place a guard on her conduct. The Earl of Lancaster had studied human nature, and knew, that as fame and self-applause influence lofty minds, so fear and interest are the means of act-

ing on base spirits. He therefore an- swered that he came in behalf of the young Prince, to lay before the King the condition of a kiagdom which he would

one day require at his hands in the same 6 ( 8 5 )

flourishing state he had himself received it. The wisdom and energy of the parliament and the council had indeed repaired many

wrongs ; but, he grieved to add, the

credit as well as the labour was solely

theirs. They had raised an army, and

sent it into the north, under the command

of the Earl of Gloucester ; but ac- customed to the presence of theft- sove- reign, the dispirited soldiers asked why they were led by the grandson instead of the son of the conqueror of Scotland.

Should it be acknowledged that he was guarding his summer-palace, or waging war with his Oueeiv or that he was oc- cupicd with the tilt-yard and the tennis-

court ? Though, by the dismissal of many exacting ministers, and prodigal

favourites, the people would be less op- pressed by taxes, and harassed by vexa- tious services, they would also be more dangerously employed than while

struggling for the means of existence. C 86 )

The times of complete ignorance and passive submission were now passed by. The fostering hand of the late King had raised the toiling multitude to such im- portance, that they now freely canvassed the conduct of their superiors. Royalty had unhappily and most unwisely made them the umpire of its dissensions ; and thus furnished a jest for the vulgar, an excuse for the factious, discord for the present times, and a warning for the future. Instead of bending to grave authority, and finding ease and happiness in obedience, villains and artizans were adopting badges of distinction, calling themselves kings-men and queens-men, and doubting if they were not released from their allegiance to a prince who did not rule his own household with discretion. " Those disputes," con- tinued he, " which, whenever they oc- cur, should be kept concealed from profane gazers, are proclaimed at market- C 87 ) crosses, and occupy the thoughts of Eng- land ; while France menaces your mater- nal inheritance, Scotland encamps on your northern border ; and Wales, re- pairing her mountain-fortresses, threatens the archers of the valley with the renewed toils of conquest. Unhappy England, sunk like thy fortunes, hast thou no better theme to exercise thy intellects than such bickerings as supply topics for the village- gossip ? Where are the glorious subjects which Palestine or Lochaber once afford- ed ? Impertinent canvassers of fabricated whispers, instead of grave discussers of legislation and war, will a nation of eaves-

droppers be worthy of the rule of that representative of thirty English Kings

whom the Prince you vilify now clasps to

his aching heart?" " My Lord of Lancaster," said the

King, " you speak as if our inclinations

were a party to this change, instead of

their being, as is truly the case, most C 88 ) sorely grieved at whatever impugns the happiness or the honour of our subjects.

It is our misfortune to reign in disorderly times, when the nation, intoxicated by a long series of glory and prosperity, can- not soberly endure that change of state to which kingdoms as well as private men are subject. Must we repeat, that it is our study, our wish and our prayer, that these dominions may be prosperous, and

all our people happy ?" 6f My Liege," returned Lancaster,

41 when I last addressed Your Grace, you

doubted the truth of my faithful state-

ment ; yet the cry of discontent was not only whispered in closets, but proclaimed

on turrets ; and the amelioration which

has since taken place is referred to those who, as loyal subjects, regret the reputa-

tion which they have purloined from their

sovereign. Yet is the case not wholly

desperate. The English, though an ir-

rftable, are an honest nation. They feel ( 8 9 )

that the reputation of their monarch is

their own ; and if his vices offend their

honour, their pride leads them to glory in his virtues. Give faction and insub-

ordination no topic on which to declaim.

Supply loyalty and affection with themes bright and happy as the inspiration which

they delight to feel. Burst from this retirement, which is only fit for a King

of the Sybarites ; call on all your faithful barons to follow you ; appoint your head- quarters at York, and send from thence your defiance to Scotland."

" And leave the Queen in London, to ripen her machinations in a turbulent city where she has gained so many confede- rates?" " No, take her with you. Do not offend her high spirit by constraint, nor compel her to be a traitress, by appearing to suspect her conduct. Yet still employ some highly trusted person, who shall so carefully superintend her conduct that h ( 9o ) shall be utterly impossible for her to rob England of the Prince, or to excite a spirit of discontent in your army." The King answered, that he had formed too slight an apprehension of the con- trivances of a woman who would elude the hundred eyes of Argus. He then asked Lancaster whom he could select for this important post of superintendant of the Queen's conduct. -" " Yourself," replied the Earl ; your renewed affections acting on her revived sense of duty, will be her best guardian.

It is rare to find a female heart so insen- sible to love and gratitude, that it cannot be improved by attention and confidence.

Lift thy beseeching hands, illustrious babe, to Him who for our sakes once wore the form of helpless innocence. Supplicate him to restore amity to thy royal parents ; so shall the true friends of England cease to fear the ravages of that flame which domestic discord threatens. ( 9? )

My Liege, you press your child to your bosom ; extend the embrace also to its mother, and thus transform the fire-brand of Ate into the olive of peace."

The King hesitated, and like many more indignant husbands, felt almost ashamed to particularise the grievances, which, when accumulated, appeared in- tolerable. His friends, he said, had not been treated with due consideration ; his temper was not studied ; and instead of permitting her favour to follow; the guid- ance of his choice, by an inverted rule the

Queen regularly preferred his enemies.

Lancaster asked if such provocations should weigh -gainst a kingdom's peace, and forcibly stated the public obligations of royalty, which, as a counterpoise to many peculiar distinctions, imposed an imperious restraint on the appetites and passions of the conservator of national greatness. He contrasted the benign in- fluence of connubial happiness, as enjoye ( 92 ) by his father, with the miseries that befel England even under the reign of a wise and gallant Prince, from the contentions of Hen- ry Fitz-empress withEleanora of Guienne, when four sons, taking part in the quar- rel of their parents, successively rose in rebellion against their father. The fruits of this contest were an imprisoned queen, a nation degraded by the forced submis- sion of its sovereign to the papal yoke,

and a high-spirited king dying in the prime of his age of a broken heart, cursing,

with his latest breath, his disloyal wife

and viperous issue. Reluctantly yielding

to his better convictions, or his awakened

fears, Edward objected opky to such con-

cessions as would compromise his dignity

by appearing to acknowledge his errors.

But Lancaster replied, that when there

was a large field for recrimination, the

most abrupt way of settling a dispute was the happiest. Fie proposed that the King should return with the young prince to ( 93 )

Westminster, thank the Queen for grati- fying him with a sight of his son, and in-

vite her to spend the Christmas with him at York. The winter months would al-

low him leisure to renew his acquaintance

with martial exercises and military men ; new scenes and characters would suggest interesting topics of conversation, and

divert their minds to useful occupations, from painful and useless recollections. The new year would open with the hap-

piest auspices ; and by the time the forces

could take the field, the King would be armed in the impenetrable mail of his

subjects' affections, and braced for the

hour of peril with the comfort afforded

by his domestic relations. With the fluctuating weakness of a judgment too

easily influenced to adhere to any pur-

pose, the King yielded to a plan which at

least promised a journey, a holiday, and

a temporary relief from his difficulties.

He set out for London ; and the Earl of ( 94 )

Lancaster, relying on his promise to re- store the Prince, and be reconciled to the Queen, proceeded to Paris, on the harder task of persuading Philip the Fair to for- get the complaints of his daughter, re- nounce his alliance with Robert Bruce, and forego, in respect to the interests of his infant grandson, his views on those rich provinces in the south-west of France, which, by inheritance, or by the mar- riage of its sovereigns, were now vested in the crown of England. ( 95 )

CHAP. XV.

Woman possesses an invincible fortitude against pain, but is liable to be seduced by pleasure. Chateaubriand.

r I ^HE minds of the King and Queen had been too much alienated, and their relish of pure domestic affection and quiet cordiality was so vitiated by a keen avidity for debasing pleasures on one side, and by intriguing ambition and vindictive pride on the other, for them to feel any sincere or durable joy at their ostensible reconciliation, or gratitude to the friend who had acted as a peace-maker. Their respective partizans, indignant at the apparent diminution of their own conse- quence, agreed in one point, namely, malignity to the man whose interference suspended their petty views. His absence ( 95 )

from court enabled them to set the en- gines of detraction to work; and the royal

pair were individually persuaded to be- lieve the Earl of Lancaster unjust and

partial. The King, in particular, was induced to think his sudden disappearance from court was worse than enigmatical. Why did he not stay to consolidate the re-

conciliation which he appeared to think so

important ? Was he afraid the King should

discover, by his stolen glances at the Queen, that he was aware of the services he had rendered Her Majesty, and knew

how to estimate them ? Where was he

gone without a passport ? The Countess of Lancaster, when questioned, ingenu- ously answered she did not know. He had stopped with her but a moment, to give her some, counsel relative to her con-

duct ; and in answer to her enquiries, only stated that he was bound on im,% portant business, and could not predict the period of his absence. Alicia owned, ( 97 ) that she had wept so much at this their first separation, that she forgot to urge him to be explicit.

It was soon discovered that he had em- barked for Boulogne. He had large pos- sessions in the Low Countries in right of

his mother ; but if the conservation of

Beaufort and its demesnes required his presence, he needed not have scrupled giving that reason for his journey. Was

it not probable that he was the Queen's agent, gone to the French court for the

purpose of fomenting the strife he seemed

to deprecate, and to ripen the conspiracy

he would not allow to be crushed, by the

most decisive methods of removing the Prince, and setting a guard over the

Queen ? Thus did the Earl's careful con- cealment of Isabella's rashness operate on the King, creating a suspicion that he was a partner in the guilt he endeavoured to

counteract ; a conclusion which that un- fortunate sovereign was more prone to

VOL. II. F ( 93 )

draw, from envy of his superior qualities, and resentment of the freedom of his re-

bukes. The Queen was swayed by dif- ferent passions. Bound by an indisso-

luble tie to one from whom her heart re- volted with contempt, but not yet recon-

ciled to the guilt and degradation of per-

sonal infidelity, her eye wandered among the nobles of the court of England, alter- nately preferring one to the other, and all of them to her husband. The man- ners of the age permitted a peculiarity of attention, and a devotedness of affection, without swerving into criminal inters course ; and Isabella was solicitous to en- gage the Earl of Lancaster as her devoted knight; an honour for which, beside many other less notorious competitors, the young Earl of Mortimer passionately sighed. But whether from discovering those latent traits in the Queen's charac- ter, which proved her unfitness- to be- come the chaste mistress of chivalry ; or ( 99 )

Iging th s heroical coquetry to be incompatible with his own reputa- tion, either as a husband or as a censor, who wished to raise the standard of man- ners, and render it better suited to the times, it was only to divert that quick irritability of feeling, which the King's or

Gaveston's behaviour often excited, that

Lancaster had ever deviated from that grave respect v.- mch the Oueen demanded, into those attentive gallantries that would

gi .nfy the woman.

Mortified at a manner thus correctly

cold, and not content to receive friendly- services from one whom she wished should feel the power of her charms, the

Queen ruminated on the cause of this in-

difference. Her mirror told her it could not be want of radiance in her eyes, or

fascination in her smiles ; it must be the

power of Alicia's beauty. This fair rustic, whom she had summoned to her court to vanquish those for whom she did not F 2 ( 1 6o ) deign to spread her own toils, had not only bound Lancaster in the hymeneal fetters, but, as a modern intriguer would say, spoiled him for a cecisbeo and a pretty fellow, which perhaps admiration of an highly accomplished Queen might have made him. Though decidedly the loveliest of English ladies, consummate judges agreed that the Countess of Lan- caster could not vie with ht?i; in form and feature ; and as to graceful manners and accomplishments, there could be no com- petition ; it must therefore be the real or supposed existence of moral qualities or

^gratitude for the exclusive preference which Alicia had so frankly avowed. To try the stability of those virtues and that affection was the return the Queen de- termined to make for Lancaster's zeal to reconcile her to her husband, and pre- vent the mischief which her rash appeal to her father threatened to the interests of her son. Thus, with the common fate C ioi ) of honest mediators, the Earl of Lancaster was condemned by both parties for not betraying their interests to their acrimony^

Corroborating the views of Isabella, but independent of her councils, the Earl of Surrey thought Lancaster's absence afforded him a fair opportunity of giving efficiency to that spirit of interminable revenge which he concealed in his bosonv against the man who had dared, to espouse his contracted bride, in studied defiance of his interdicting menace,

Persuaded that it was impossible Lan- caster would assert any claim to Alicia., building on the workings of an inde- pendent spirit in his own favour, which> though it would resist a positive demand, must, he thought, be won by an act of generosity ; and being also a willing dupe to that self-flattery which fondly dwelt on his own irresistible attractions. Lord Surrey risked the dangerous experiment of releasing a lady from obligations which

F 3 ;

( 1°2 ) he trusted his liberality and merit would induce her to renew. Supplanted by a princely ascetic, who had renounced his avowed plan of life to become his rival outwitted m his policy by a girl who had, unknown to him, excited an interest in the heart of the only man whom his threats could not intimidate, and against whose power the King could not inter- fere, this haughty baron saw himself caught in his own toils, and being com- pelled to yield, he was left with no other alternative than to do so with a grace which would facilitate his future ven- geance ; or, by discovering his implac- able revenge, to prepare his enemies to defeat tjie machinations they expected.

The castles of Madoc had not been ob- tained by his grandfather by confessing to Lady Emma Audley that avarice and enmity to the Cambrian princes induced him to court their guardianship. Master of smooth oratory, an adept in subtle de- :

k»3 ( )

oeit, like all other libertines and oppres- sors, he had repeatedly checked the ex- pression of those passions he harboured in his bosom, and bade the unruly desire,

which he wanted principle to extermi- nate, wait on place, time, and conveni- ence, till each according adjunct height- ened lust to frenzy, and gave an exhi- lerating impulse to infernal revenge. Lancaster had robbed him of a charming woman, the richest heiress in England it would be easy to institute a suit in the spiritual courts, to challenge him to a single combat, or to waste his lands and burn his castles. The first measure would better become a gownsman than a chieftain ; and in either of the latter alternatives, his own life and fortunes were staked against his rival's ; and S urr f had too much attachment to this world and its pleasures, and two little depend* ance en the masses he sometimes heard, r 4 :

( 104 ) and the indulgences he purchased, to brave the future, by provoking a power greater than his own, or encountering an arm whose prowess was confessedly un- equalled. If in the barbarous spirit of the age he commenced a system of pre- datory war, and Lancaster retaliated, would this accelerate his possession of

Alicia ; or would it be the surest way of torturing a man who, though he preserved great state in his equipage and retinue, submitted, from political motives, in his own personal enjoyments, to the privations of a monk or an anchorite, even while he resided in a luxurious court? To lure from him the fair prize which Lancaster had boldly snatched from his -arms, or to con- vince him it was of no value, would be the way to sting the man to the soul his feelings (like most people of reserved tempers and severe manners) were deep and acute \ and he, unblemished in his ( io5 )

own reputation, required from all his .connections unswerving rectitude. Wo-

men have been frail, and servants venal in

all ages. The chief difficulty was to avoid exciting suspicion, which would put en-

dangered virtue on its defence. By a manner respectful, distant, and dejected,

he had in a great degree changed Alicia's opinion of his character, and convinced

her of two points favourable to his views and dangerous to her principles, namely, that she had thought of him too harshly,

and that he continued to be the prey of hopeless love, though respect and honour

checked every intimation of his passion* Occasionally he withdrew from the court, but whenever he returned, he re-assumed the same decorous melancholy character.

Beatrice assured her lady, that these fre- quent absences were caused by his inef- fectual attempts to break the fetters her charms imposed. She did not reveal (perhaps she did not know) that his

F 5 ( «* )

wanton paramour, Maud of Nersford, often lured him to Sandal Castle, from

whence, weary of his days of* saturnalia, he returned to a pursuit in which appetite

stimulated . intellect.

Still he acquiesced in the murder of Prince Madoc's children. No: Beatrice

insisted that there was great reaspn to

infer his innocence. Old Lloyd might mistake, in supposing that the young Earl

was privy to his grandfather's designs ; or Eubulo's father might perpetrate the

act from some malicious motive of his

own ; or the old bard, like many of his profession, might be a vagabond slanderer

of nobles and princes. It was very odd,

if he committed such a crime when young,

that he never repeated it ; and she never heard a syllable breathed against him except by Friar Ambrose and the Welsh harper. She appealed to Dorcas 5 and that simple, well-intentioned girl, whose melting heart always yearned for

3 C 107 ) a faithful lover, protested with tears that she quite adored the Lord Surrey, be- cause she was sure he adored her Lady. Beatrice then hinted, that had he been her husband, he would not have left her in England, with a charge to live retired during his absence, wholly devoting her- self to the government of her numerous household, and the care of her aged fa- ther, but have taken her with him, shewn her beauty to the court of France, and given her a view of its splendour. Alicia wept, owned that it was rather hard, but thought that probably her lord forgot her having often expressed a wish !x> see the Queen's handsome family. She would however employ herself as he directed till his return.

" But dearest lady," said Doras, " do not bury us in London with the Earl y mr father; it will be so gloomy and stupid when the court is gone to York." " My lady cannot have such a design/* f 6 ( io8 )

Highness always calls her, were to be ab- sent at the feasts about to be given on ac- count of the royal reconciliation. The master of the revels has exercised all his wits to make them most proper and in- genious. Every day there is to be a new pastime. Beside tournaments and ban- quets, and the bearn-bishop, and slight- of-hand conjurors, and moriscoe and jing- ling matches, and bull-baitings, and riding at the ring, I have heard from a friend, in confidence, that there is to be a trial of skill between Provencal poets, Welsh harpers, and bards from the north country ; and the Queen and her ladies are to give silver harps and golden chains to the victors: Last of all, there is to be a pageant in the Italian fashion. Did

Yvmr Grace ever see a pageant ? They say it is the finest sight in the world. There are to be eight triumphs : the first is to be ( *°o. ) that of Love, who is to ride on a chariot drawn by lions, and to be followed by all the faithful couples who have ever lived in the world, bearing pennons telling who they are, and complimenting the King and Queen." Dorcas interrupted the description, with earnestly entreating that they might go.

" If," said she, " Your Grace is afraid of our lord, you might only just stay at York for that one raree shew."

Lady Alicia frowned at Dorcas for using so unappropriate a term as fear.

She certainly had a very great inclination to go. She had long wished to entertain the court at Pontefract, and shew some of the ladies, who had occasionally given themselves airs of consequence, her he- reditary importance; and as this was so fair an opportunity, it was very hard she might not. Certainly her lord had not taken every contingency into his view, or considered what claims might be made ( no )

on his credit and hospitality, when he

advised her (for it was only advice) to

live retired during his absence.

If it were only advice, the girls argued

it was not positively binding ; and they

entreated their lady to consult her con-

fessor ; Beatrice at the same time enlarg- ing on the comfort of having a spiritual

guide to whom they could open their

hearts, instead of a morose, contracted

bigot like Father Ambrose, who terrified them into duplicity.

Sir Hilary was summoned ; but the Countess was predetermined to comply with the wishes of her lord, and only consulted her confessor to know what merit would be annexed to the sacrifice of her own desires. The appearance and manner of this priest better corresponded with the modern French abbe, than the secluded monk of the fourteenth century.

Ambitious and indolent ; studious only to preserve his importance by that smatter- ( III ) ing of learning which in the dark ages contributed to the preservation of eccle- siastical tyranny, he was a sophist rather than a philosopher, and a sensualist and pleasant companion instead of a saint.

Alicia intended to confess the temptation

felt follow inclinations she to her own ; but Beatrice boldly put the question, whether the advice, or even the commands of an absent husband should be implicitly obeyed.

Sir Hilary assumed the air of a casuist, and rejecting Scripture or reason for guides, proceeded to obscure the case by logical definitions. Commands might be good, neutral, or bad ; the obligation to obedience might be positive, conditional, or abrogated by superior claims. Advice and commands were kept distinct, or rendered conjunctive, by the disposition, situation, or even the tone and manner of the irnposer. Even commands ad- mitted of four distinctions, with respect ( *?f )

to the authority from whence they pro-

ceeded ; for a lawful power might be exerted for a lawful or an unlawful pur-

pose ; or superiority might be usurped for a bad or a good purpose. Again, the party from whom obedience was re- quired might be an ideot, or an infant, and in each ca^e bound to an implicit acquiescence, by those rules which are obligatory on immature or extinguished

understandings ; or the principal and the agent might be equal in the capacity of determining, or even superior, or influ^ enced by superhuman convictions. Sir Hilary argued the case in every point of

view, till they despaired of his getting to

the end of the multiplied changes ; but at the winding up he rewarded their patience by deciding, that the intellects of the Countess of Lancaster being equal, or

perhaps superior, to the Earl's ; and cir- cumstances having arisen, of which, from distance and other causes, he could not ( " J

judge ; if she could say, with a safe con- science, that she believed herself called on by a sense of duty to accompany the

Queen her sovereign lady to York, she might go, and he would only impose on her a slight penance, such as abstaining from eating marmalade ; or were she very fond of marmalade, doubling the number of Paternosters, not because she disobeyed the Earl, but for giving him to understand she would comply with his desires. Every member of Lady Lancaster's establishment felt persuaded that a Daniel was come to judgment, and never was a household so happy in an enlightened and liberal pastor. Alicia still doubted. It

was her first marked deviation from what

she felt was her duty ; her first opposi-

tion to what she knew to be her hus-

band's - will. She had indeed, by her ac-

quiescence, filled all her family with mea-

sureless content ; but when she paid her ( "4 )

farewel visit to the Earl of Lincoln, he wrung her hand, and took leave as so-

lemnly as if he knew it would be their

final interview. Why that ominous ap- prehension, she inquired. Her absence

she promised should be short ; she would

only visit Pontefract, see the pageants, and return. But De Lacy, humbled by decrepitude, and anticipating a speedy sojourn in the grave, proceeded to give

directions for his funeral in her presence. He commanded that he should be interred in the cathedral church of Saint Paul, in the armour he wore in Palestine ; and that his effigies, carved in the posture of a crusader, should be laid on his tomb. He required of her also that she should found a chantry of priests ; and that on the anniversary of his death, and the eve of All Souls, his descendants should go in pilgrimage to his cemetery, there to offer tapers, and sprinkle holy water, to enlighten the gloom, and abate the pangs ( "5 )

of purgatory. . Such hold had the terrors of Romish superstition early imprinted, wad perpetually inculcated, even on the

strongest minds ; and though, in the

period of health and activity, their influ-

ence might be apparently suspended, it was only to return with invincible force in those moments, when the awful prox- imity of the future world absorbed all concern for the present ; and anxious care, disappointed in the objects of its terrestrial pursuits, fixed with intense solicitude on that part of man's com- pounded being, to which it paid least at- tention during the time which would have best improved its condition.

The Countess wept at her father's conversation. She had promised to attend the Queen to York, and that princess had already set out, depending on having the advantage of her counsel, and the pleasure of her society. She asked her father if he wished her to re- ( «#; )

main with him. Struggling with a sense of neglect, which his affection and his fortitude alike made him unwilling to own, he bade her do what she felt to be her duty. " Enable me to perform it,"

said she, sinking on her knees, " by

your blessing." He gave it with a solemn

pathos, which again indicated it would

be the last he should bestow. The Lady Alicia's suite only waited the conclusion of this visit, — they were all ac-

coutered ready to depart ; and the shame of appearing wavering and fickle now

assisted her inclinations for pleasure, and

subdued the impulses of filial duty. Bea-

trice succeeded in persuading her, that a

distempered dream, the effect of infirmity

or indigestion, or. a sound mistaken for a death-watch, or some other dubious omen, had magnified the apprehensions of gradual decay. The Earl certainly

looked as well, and spoke as strong, as

usual \ and to pray for him at the crosses C "7 ) which they passed on the road, was as much an act of filial piety as to sit and weep by his bed-side. Her ladies were unanimous in entreating her not to suffer such dolours as death and purgatory,

entirely to occupy her attention ; and ere they had proceeded two stages these thoughts were effectually banished, by anticipations of their splendid appearance at York, and devices for the fete at Pon- tefract. Costly attire, rich hangings, choice viands, and such ingenious variety as would prevent satiety, required so much deliberation, and it was so neces- sary to hasten rapidly after the Queen,

lest they should be too late for the amuse-

ments, that the intended devotions at the way-side crosses were commuted, by a

largess, to those who, having more lei-

sure, were hired to pray for the safe re- turn of the Earl of Lancaster, and the

life of the Earl of Lincoln.

But the young volatile indulged Alicia ( n8 )

was not the only thoughtless worshiper of amusement, whom the prospect of a scene of dissipation seduced into a renunciation of graver duties. In the mind of Edward cf Carnarvon, the ideas of pleasure and

Gaveston were so combined, that it was

impossible for him to welcome the first

without the latter. During the sitting of parliament, and while the power of the

ordainers was_ in full force, he had been

obliged to dispense with his favourite's

company ; but the privation was felt with

all that fond lingering after a forbidden

delight, which marks a mind totally ener-

vated by long indulgence ; and a festivity without his irradiating presence was in- supportable. Various were the intrigues

set afloat by those who flattered the King's

inclinations, at the expence of his best

interests, to pave the way for Gaveston's recall. The reign of Henry the Third is well known, as the period in which the third estate began to hold a regular place ( "9 ) in the great council of the nation. This power was introduced as a check and equipoize to that of the clergy and the barons, and to the order they represented. Edward the First during his long salutary reign, granted many immunities tending, in their immediate effect, to increase the security of the crown, and in their pro- spective effect, to create that intelligence, enterprize, and fortitude in the middle classes of society, to which, with the blessing of Divine Providence, it is owing, that England has set such a glo- rious example to those nations, whose population, consisting of an unwieldy aristocracy, and a rabble sunk in vas- satage and ignorance, have easily become the prey of tyrants.

But a wise prince will consider the dif- ference between forming one class of his subjects into a barrier against the exor- bitant power of the other, and exciting mutual hostility. By bestowing charters ( ^0 ) on towns, allowing the nobility to alienate their lands, granting facilities to com- merce, and founding schools and colleges for the education of youth, the common- alty of England had gradually loosened their feudal chains, acquired property independent of their great landlords, and exercised those powers of ratiocination and genius which, in same instances, led to equality of power. Though, generally speaking, the potent baron acted towards his dependants as a father to his children, yet as human nature had always the same propensity to prefer what the individual considers as his own interest, instances of oppression could not be infrequent, where law scarce attended to the wrongs >of humble claimants. Grateful to royalty for those favours which originally eman- ated from the throne, the first effusions of freedom among the people gave birth to those insurrections, in which the nobility were the chief objects of hatred ; and 6 ( 121 ) these were repeated as often as a vigorous and prosperous administration was suc- ceeded by misrule and misfortune. When public resources were misapplied, and profusely wasted, it was easy for those who governed England by the pernicious system of favouritism, to divert the resent- ment of an irritable, suffering commonalty, insufficiently informed as to the source of the miseries they endured, from the sovereign, to those same feudal chieftains at whose power they had been accus- tomed to tremble, and whom they were the more easily disposed to consider col- lectively as oppressors.

Depending on being the heir of his father's popularity, no sooner was the parliament dispersed, the power of the ordainers expired, and the Earl of Lancaster gone from court, than the King proceeded to recall Gaveston, though in so doing he violated the solemn

VOL. II. G ( 122 )

vows which he had taken as a knight, a Christian, and an anointed king.

To excuse this perjury he sent circular

letters to the sheriffs of the counties, stating that he was previously bound by

his coronation-oath to see justice admi-

nistered to all his subjects ; and being conscious that the Earl of Cornwall had been banished by a most foul conspiracy,

he had recalled him \ not to screen him from his enemies, but that he might be

submitted to a free and open trial. But

still believing him to be innocent of the

crimes laid to his charge, he should, till

such trial could take place, treat him as

a faithful subject ; and he had summoned him to York to* consult on important affairs. Indignant at this mean prevarication, and unroyal conduct, the barons appealed to the same tribunal, the judgment of the public, which thus seemed to sit as urn- C 123 )

•pire between claimants contending for their favour. The demon of discord was thus again let loose ; the King beheld his splendour eclipsed by the departure of many of the chief barons ; and the sup- plies intended for the Earl of Gloucester were withdrawn under frivolous pre-

:s, by the lords of each party, who thus sought to disguise their apprehen- sions, that their troops would be wanted for intestine war. Nor was the behaviour of Gaveston calculated to allay the flame which his return had re-lighted. It seemed to be the fate of this presumptuous man to ne- glect every warning, to grow more in^ solent from every chastisement, and to justify his enemies in their conclusion, that extermination was the only cure for his obdurate insolence. Perceiving, that during his absence the Oueen had ac- quired some consequence, and had formed g 2 ( 124 ) a party, especially designated as her friends, he studiously shewed her the same marked contempt, which Mortimer and his associates as openly retorted. Thus the court exhibited a scene not uncommon in the residence of those princes who mistake splendour for great- ness, and allow base intrigue to supplant enlarged policy ; while cabal and flattery are called wisdom and attachment. There were seen at York, the greatest pro- fusion of expence, a surfeiting routine of amusements, a gasping impatience for uninterrupted enjoyment, strained affecta- tion of inordinate satisfaction, and equally insincere professions of eternal regard, combined with envy, hatred, discontent, and restless avidity to secure a portion of that golden shower of honours, rewards, and appointments, which, under the pre- tence of exciting a military spirit, the lavish King poured on his favourites ; — • ( l2 5 ) thus wasting the resources that the or- dainers had accumulated to form the sinews of war. In these scenes of external gaiety and real misery, the Countess of Lancaster bore a distinguished part, and amid the heart-burnings of a factious court, simply wondered, that she was not happy.

Gaveston again wore her favours : to mortify him she danced with Mortimer, and allowed Surrey, who was retiring and respectful, to court her favour, by often singing the canzonet which an exiled troubadour composed in praise of her beauty, her descent, and her device.

Among the vallies of Thoulouse,

"While yet a youth, I sought the rose, The rose of Provence, 'twas to dress

My bower of nuptial happiness ; And many a pleasant lay I wove, In honour of the rose of love. ; : ; !

( ia6 )

All me I the vallies of Thoulouse No more are spangled with the rose No more, beneath that azure sky, For love the shepherds smile and sigh.

Flames more intense their hearts assail, And tortur'd victims shriek and wail.

From these sad scenes, my fate to brave, A free-born bard, but beauty's slave, With madrigal and roundelay, Through many a clime I took my way, Seeking o'er mountain, dale, and grove, The rose of beauty and of love.

The prize is found : Ah, bard unblest

It blossoms on a rival's breast

'Tis on his banner'd tree unfurl'd,

Branch of that rose which charm'd the world j

And still Plantagenet receives

The incense of its fragrant leaves.

Severely chaste, supremely fair,

Source of my hope, and my despair ; If to an echoing voice I pine, May one response alone be mine The love I dare not now disclose

Shall murmur " Sweet Lancastrian Rose-."' ( *U )

But, beside being the richest attired, best attended, and most admired lady, Alicia had the glory of giving the most splendid fete at Pontefract that the Queen,

- as she herself owned, had ever enjoyed y and all the court ladies were pining with mortification, at the grandeur of her fortress, the fancy of her tapestry, her massy plate, costly jewr els, and nu- merous, well-appointed retainers. How very extraordinary, as well as how won- drously pitiful, that she could not again feel that free delight, that rapturous en- joyment, as when she followed her father in his sylvan sports, flew her falcon at the brown heath-cock, or on the banks of some of the rapid streams that feed the Stour, lured the spotted trout from his crystal element. Were hawking and fishing more exhilarating sports than tiltings and maskings ? She never then felt wearisome cravings for untried no- velties, or concealed conscious disappoint^

G> 4. ( 128 ) merit and dejection, under the mask of exuberant mirth. To the bodily fatigue which they occasioned, sleep proved a sure relief ; and the fair huntress sprung from her pallet with the mounting lark, to resume her cheerful occupations ; but retiring from the suffocating heat of a crowded festival, she could not sleep. The agitating hurry of the scene swam tremulously on her waving pillow ; the loud symphonies of vocal and instru- mental music tingled in her ears with disturbing murmurs ; the glare of torches, and the splendour of cloth-of- gold mantles, jewels, and snowy plum-

age, danced in painful confusion before

her eyes ; and a night of feverish rest- lessness succeeded what was miscalled a day of pleasure, even when some pain- ful incident or overheard sarcasm did not remind her, that in this crowded as- semblage of the great and the proud, she had not one friend—-not one who really ( i*9 ) loved her. Not even the Queen, who-

so exclusively claimed that title ; for she too could change the terms of " Our most dear and most lovely cousin" to a whispered jest on the home-bred wife of Lancaster, who, presuming on her wealth, desired to outshine the daughter and con- sort of kings.

Mean-time that wealth, which, next to her beauty, was the prime incentive to the envy she inspired, wasted fast beneath those extraordinary expenses which sumptuous apparel and entertain- ments incurred. The Countess found the treasure which she had brought with her from London, and which in- experience made her suppose inex- haustible, all dissipated, and the day- fixed for the pageant was not yet arrived*

What could be done ? Apply to the

Queen*—Alas I that illustrious lady had long been in a similar situation, and per- haps it was owing to Alicia's inability to

G 5 ( '3° )

supply her wants, that Her Majesty was provoked to utter the contemptuous ex- pressions already recorded. Beatrice whispered, that Lord Surrey was rich

and generous ; but the wife of the

high-minded Lancaster disdained the in- sinuated application. She knew that a large sum was deposited in the hands of the seneschal of Pontefract, but that sum was her father's, and sacredly appro-

priated to defray the charge of the con-

tingent to be furnished by him for the

Scottish war. To divert it to her own private expenses would be very un- patriotic, though she knew that the kind De Lacy would forgive his beloved child the misapplication. But to stay

at York without it was impossible*. The consumption of her retinue was im-

mense ; she was not now living in the cheap hospitality which feudal customs permitted to those who resided in their own demesnes, when either under the C '3< )

heads of produce, rents in kind, or pre- sents, the baron's tables and stalls were

furnished with almost every article of

consumption ; — she was living in an

over-peopled city, where luxury trebled the price of every necessary. Prudence whispered, " Return to London, and by dismissing your superfluous retainers to the management of their own private

affairs, relieve yourself from this ruinous

cost of maintenance ;" but she had not yet seen the pageant, which was delayed

only to make it more splendid. In this dilemma, she must again consult Sir Hilary. The obliging confessor admitted that her situation was distressing. He spoke of the virtue of foresight, the duty of

calculating expense, the comfort of feel- ndependent, and uttered various wise old saws, calculated to dissuade the

Countess from incurring another insol-

vency j but since she was already in that g 6 ( i3 2 ) state, and was also sole heiress to the

Earl of Lincoln, to anticipate what must

in future be her own, could not be called injustice. And as to misapplying a fund

intended for public service, the state need not suffer, as the Jews would readily

raise any sum on the mortgage of lands,

a liberty which the late King had allowed to his barons. The Lady Alicia must, however, submit to a penance, and he

could not, on this occasion, be so lenient

as in his former inflictions. He was col-

lecting a sum for the charitable sisters of Saint Clare, which was to be devoted,

under their auspices, to the orphans of

those who might hereafter fall in the Scottish wars, and he must mulct her for

their relief. Alicia sighed, and sent the Pontefract seneschal an order to de-

liver the intrusted treasure to her use. Sir Hilary received a portion adequate to the supposed designs of the pious nuns, or rather, to the deficiencies

3 ( *33 ) which gaming and dissipation had made in his own income ; and the plundered seneschal, terrified at a proceeding which he could not resist, posted to London, to inform his venerable lord of his daugh- ter's proceedings. C W4 I

CHAP. XVI.

The soul's dark cottage, batter'd and decay 'd, Lets in new light through chinks that time has made. Waller,

A FTER passing some time in the ^ French court, the Earl of Lancaster discovered, that though for the sake of state finesse, much was said about pater- nal feeling, wounded honour, and ten- derness for female sensibility, Philip the Fair was more inclined to reduce the power of his own nobles, and to make interested attacks on his immediate neigh- bours, than to a romantic, absurd inter- ference in the domestic quarrels of his daughter. An insight into his designs induced a compromise; and the royal father affected. to be pacified, by the Earl's- c 135 y

assurance that Edward and Isabella were

living in harmony, and that Gaveston, the chief fomenter of their discord, was banished from England, never to re-

turn. Relying on his further promise

that he would, to the utmost of his

power, endeavour to preserve things-

in this happy train, the King of France

agreed to suppress all indication of

resentment, and Lancaster returned to England.

Strictly combined with the honour iri-

which this illustrious man held the first table of the moral law, was his observance of the leading injunction of the second.

Government in all its shapes, superiority

of every class, whatever was decent, wise

and venerable, the ties of natural, civil,

and religious authority, all claimed his

profound regard. -His first care, on

his arrival in London, was to visit the

Earl of Lincoln, who lay on his death-

bed, and seemed only to retain his parting 8 ( tfl ) breath that his son-in-law might hear his last councils. Most strange and most lamentable did this seem to the Earl of

Lancaster ; the great, the good, the brave De Lacy dying, and his daughter not supporting his head on her bosom. It was in a similar attitude that she re- ceived the first declaration of love from one who contemplated it as a sure in- dication that he should be blessed with a peerless wife. Where was Alicia? Lincoln did not complain of her absence. She did not know his extreme danger.

Was she well ? The Queen had com- manded her attendance at York, where the fond father hoped that she was happy.

De Lacy only adjured him to behave kindly to his darling. She had been ten- derly cherished, and most fondly indulged. ( i37 )

If ever he should reprove her, he re-

quested him to deal lightly with one

whose sensibility made her feel the

slightest hint. The temporary coldness

of her heart's affections, he said, was as

the snow of May, and as rapidly suc- ceeded by the brightest vegetation.

Unwilling to hazard his ability of com-

municating his dying councils by a longer

indulgence of his private feelings, he pro-

ceeded to inform his son-in-law of the recal of Gaveston, and the King's pro-

ceedings at York ; and, contrary to his usual caution, he even stirred up Lan-

caster's tardiness to resistance, by con- juring him, in the " * most moving terms,

not to abandon the church and people

of England to the mercy of popes and

kings. He told him his birth obliged him

to endeavour to free the kingdom from

the oppressions it unfortunately laboured

* This speech is copied from Rapin, ( '38 )

under- He charged him to have always a great regard for the King, but withal,

he added, this did not. hinder him from

doing all in his power to remove from his person the foreign ministers and favour-

ites. Honour, conscience, and the pub-

lic good, called upon him to procure the observance of the great charter, the only

basis of the welfare and peace of the kingdom. In conclusion, he advised him to join heartily with the Earl of Warwick,

who, among all the confederated lords, was best able to carry on the important

undertaking," being actuated by a sin- cere, disinterested regard for the public welfare.

Lancaster received these councils into

an observant, but indignant heart. That

the King should choose the period of his

absence to recall his favourite, convinced him (though unwilling to adopt san- guinary measures), that death only could rid the kingdom of this pest,, and portent* C *39 ) and that it must be done by his means, While he stood gazing on the corpse of the venerable patriot, and wishing that Gaveston's could be substituted, and that honest heart again permitted to pant for the weal of England, he was in- formed that the Seneschal of Pontefract

had rode post to London, charged with important intelligence to his lord. Lan-

caster's hopes and fears were busily at

work. It might be that he hoped the Earl of Gloucester had cleared the north

of the Scottish marauders ; perhaps he anticipated an insurrection of the barons,

which had saved him the trouble of tear- ing Gaveston from the King, or more

probably his apprehensions were roused

for the life and honour of his Alicia.

The tale of the Seneschal did not dissipate

those fears. Her honour was indeed im-

plicated. She had taken the lead in the

dissipations at York ; and, to supply her

.-, had not scrupled to seize the C ho )

treasures of her father ; — that fond, neg- lected, worthy father, whose dying breath excused her errors. The overcharged eye-lids of Lancaster gave unusual vent, and as his' tears fell fast on the cold face of the Earl of Lincoln, he rightly called the emotion grief. " This must not be,'* said he, as he drew his hand over his brow ; " we are called to immediate action. Return, Seneschal: tell all you have seen to the Countess my wife ; and bid her repair instantly to my castle at Kenilworth, and there hide her sorrow from the world."

He proceeded to give orders for De Lacy's funeral, and sent pursuivants to all the barons of his party, requesting that they would attend the solemn rites, at which he meant to arrange and cement the confederacy which the aged patriot had advised, and his own convictions had determined to be necessary. Warwick, to whom the ties of friendship, and the ( 141 ) advice of Lincoln especially endeared him, was not in London. Was he too gone to display his youthful prowess, and the gallant trim of his equipage, among the York revellers ? No, he (Lancaster) heard, with pleasure, that he was in his own demesnes, training his vassals for the

Scottish war. So fame reported ; but fame, which sometimes obscures real de- sert, occasionally gives an heroical colour- ing to motives of a very different nature. After Lancaster's marriage had re- moved all apprehensions of a rival to his love, Warwick visited Kenilworth, to observe how Matilda was affected by these espousals. He found her in the deepest affliction. Beauchamp misconstrued the cause, and gave up every hope of divert- ing her fixed regard. Yet could he not re- frain from speaking of the newly wedded

pair ; and all his apprehensions died away when he saw her listening unconcerned

to the narrative, and observing, with ap- C .142 )

parent pleasure, that the portrait which he drew of the bride would be a cordial to Queen Blanche. " My royal guar-

dian," said she, " is consumed by /a

disease,, which she conceals from her sons, lest it should divert Lancaster from his duty, and retard the recovery of Leicester. Yet, though magnanimity contends with pain, its repeated inroads will subdue mortality. But this morning she con- fessed to me that she is without hope,

Would to heaven as I have shared her bed while living, I might be the partner of her grave ! The King grants all wardships to his favourites. I shall be seized as the wealthy prize of some licentious parasite, some dependant on Gaveston, whose bankrupt-fortunes require the support of my lands. Forbidden to enter the shelter of a convent, I have none to help me but the holy Virgin and my guardian angel."

She proceeded to tell Beauchamp that her father's will forbade her taking the C *43 ) veil, on pain of forfeiting her inheritance. The Earl of Leicester was gone to the south of France, to try the effect of its bal- samic air and medicinal springs. Reasons

(which, though no longer imperative, still acted forcibly on her delicacy,) forbade her claiming the protection of the Earl of

Lancaster. There was one place of re- fuge, which the Queen of Navarre had herself suggested, the monastic cell of Balshall, a small community of happy nuns, who lived in the neighbourhood of Kenilworth, protected by the Knights

Templars. Here, if death robbed her of

her monitress and friend, would she re-

side till misrule became less dangerous, or time induced a happy forgetfulness of her existence; and she entreated Beau-

champ, as her knight and friend, to in-

terpose his aid, if the King, or any of his

minions, should attempt to violate the freedom of her choice.

In the full sincerity of his soul, War- ( 144 )

. wick pledged his sword and life to her defence; but observed, that since the

will of Earl Maurice presented an insu- perable barrier to her continued seclusion, a baronial castle was a surer asylum from violence than a cell of feeble nuns. His eyes drew the inference, though he im- posed silence on his tongue. Matilda un- derstood their language, and her blushes removed the interdict she had imposed.

An ecclaircissement took place ; all was joy and triumphant hope. Matilda ac- knowledged that she had mistaken love for friendship; and Warwick urged, that

as her guardian possessed the power of bestowing her in marriage, the consent of the Queen of Navarre alone was want- ing to remove every apprehension of a constrained and degrading alliance.

While in the presence of a beloved object, and in the happy dawn of mutual confidence and cheerful hope, every dif- ficulty appears to vanish, affection giving ( H5 ) an impulse to the mind which appears like strength. But when Matilda ap- proached the couch on which reclined her suffering guardian, she felt the brief anxieties of love die away in admiration of the fortitude of that heroic princess, who, while struggling with a mortal disease, smiled at pain, and anticipated immortality. As often as she attempted to begin the meditated confession, she reflected how selfish it would be to express anxiety for her own state to one who was writhing with agony, or to distract her attention by solicitudes for the child she regarded with a mo- ther's fondness. Matilda's manner ex- pressed her perplexity ; but the Queen's mind was engrossed with the contem- plation of her long cherished plan ; and letters which had lately arrived with an encouraging account of her son Leicester's improvement in health, made her con-

sider this as the happiest moment for com-

VOL. II. H ( H6 ) municating her desires. With the calm self-possession which characterizes great minds in the close of life, Blanche again renewed the subject of her own dissolu- tion, and its effects on the fortunes of her young friend. She spoke of Balshall nunnery as a temporary retreat, where obscurity promised privacy, and the twice hallowed sanctity of which, imposing ex- traordinary respect, prevented all fear of violation. Still, as the only sure guar- dianship, she recommended marriage. Matilda drooped her head and blushed.

The Queen proceeded to say she had a son ; Matilda, interrupting, begged she would feel no pain on that subject, for, though gratitude, respect, and admiration would have compelled her obedience, she had lately discovered that the Earl of Lancaster would not have been the choice of her heart, which, she believed, was more prompt to repay humble affection, than to offer itself a spontaneous present 4 ( H7 ) to superior desert. " I have still a son," resumed the Queen, with that smile of full satisfaction which spoke a mind ca- pable of bidding pain begone, and wait its due season : " I have still a son, who shall win that heart on the terms it so nobly requires. So may heaven speed my dearest wishes, by confirming the hopes his letters suggest, as Leicester shall largely pay the tribute due to thy modest

4ignity. At parting, he confessed to me that he only desired life to spend it with my Matilda, and he received with a more endeared blessing my full appro- bation of his choice. Why weeps the daughter of my soul ? Often has thy infant tongue told me thy dear love for Henry, who strung thy garlands, and tamed thy falcons. Come, then, and to a mother's bosom confess thy confirmed

sensibility of his gentle virtues, of the

fortitude with which he endured sick- H 2 ( US )

ness, and forbore to engage thy vows,

till hope became the herald of love."

As the Queen gently bowed to re- ceive the desired embrace of a daughter, Matilda dropped on her knees. Her royal friend clasped her to her bosom,

but she was still silent. How could she avow, that with the tenderest pity for Leicester's sufferings and respect for his amiable character, her heart was de- voted to Warwick? While encircled by those arms which had been her

asylum from infancy, she, for the first

time, regretted the partial preference that selected her from so many worthier

ladies, to be adopted into the house of Lancaster. Could she no other way smooth the death-bed of her honoured guardian, than by dooming herself and the now happy Warwick, to a long life of regret ; nor fulfil the ties of gratitude, save by breaking the promise she had ( 149 )

recently 'given, of adding the name of husband to that of friend and cham- pion ? But Queen Blanche's penetration soon read the meaning of Matilda's looks of perplexity and distress, and her genero- sity anticipating a painful confession, for- bade the sacrifice on which grateful duty pondered. She not only saw the em- barrassment of love, but determined that the gay and gallant friend of Lancaster must be that obstacle to the wishes of Leicester, which the tears and confusion of Matilda tacitly avowed. At one period of her life, when, admired as a woman and honoured as a Queen, the wishes of Blanche were always anticipated, and her looks were equivalent to commands, this second frustration of her long che- rished hopes might have been received with avowed displeasure ; but sickness had disrobed her soul for the grave, not by chilling the tender affections, but by

h 3 !

( w )

relaxing that tenacious hold of earthly

power, which is the last proof of a sordid, imperious mind. With the po-

licy and forethought of the Queen and mother, were now mingled the convic-

tion that she was one of that perishable

race, whose generations successively oc- cupy the places assigned by Omnipo-

tence ; and as they pass away, leave their unfinished plans and forgotten desires

to be fulfilled or marred by strangers. Blanche meditated on her long line of progenitors, who had, for ages, ex- perienced the protection of an immut-

able, all-wise, all-merciful Providence could she not confide her descend- ants to the same ever-watchful care? How often had she seen events occur which rendered that undesirable, which

it had been the previous labour of a life

to attain. An unconditional restraint

imposed on an ingenuous mind, is like a

spur to courage, or a menace to inte- ( »5» ) grity. " Who," said she to herself,

" that has looked on life with a discern-

ing eye, but must feel that neither policy, strength, nor authority can so over-

rule the course of human actions, as to connect happiness with prosperity, or even to insure our hearts from being wounded by the gratification of our de-

sires ? Why then, should I stretch out my hand from the grave, and say to those who have a long course of years

before them, c Do thus to content one,

who, ere thou canst obey, will have lost

all consciousness of sublunary concerns.*

O, mortal creature ! remember thou art

thyself on the confines of eternity ; be not, therefore, busy among the rubbish

of time, nor forge 3 with a hand crumb- ling into dust, indissoluble chains for a

being as intelligent and susceptible as thyself." Actuated by sentiments so consonant

to real greatness and true affection, h 4 ( »5V )

Blanche impressed a maternal kiss on Matilda's cheek, and bade her again kneel and receive her blessing. " May you," said she, " be happy with the man whose humble affection your heart rewards. I will only impose one restric- tion. So order your bridal peal that it shall not be the knell of my Leicester." We will pass over the grateful ac- knowledgements of Matilda, who bound herself, by a solemn obligation, that no apprehensions of personal danger should induce her to become Warwick's wife, without the cheerful consent of Henry Plantagenet.

At their last interview, the Earl of Warwick appointed Guy's chapel (a scene endeared by their first meeting), as the spot where he should receive the anticipated consent of the Queen of Na- varre. His ardent spirit did not allow him to foresee any obstacles to a plan he had formed for their immediate mar- ( *S3 ) riage, which, if solemnized during the life of her guardian, would receive that full validity, from her consent, which would defy the power of the Pope or the

King to cancel. Matilda had allowed him to hope, that, if she could be spared from attendance on the Queen, she would visit that favourite scene of her devotions during the vesper-service \ he considered that the officiating priest would be at hand, and though the sun had not finished his course since Matilda plighted her troth, their attachment was not ephemeral ; it resulted from long and intimate knowledge of each other's

worth ; it had been proof to jealousy, misapprehension, and absence: why,, then, should not the nuptial- benedic- tion be pronounced,, which would free her from danger and him from fear? Seated on the stone-coffin which held the remains of the mighty Guy, he rumi-

nated on all the arguments he would

5 ( '54 )

use, to prevail on Matilda to put it out of the power of fate to separate them. He would alarm her fears by narrating

(as truth permitted him to do), the in- jurious alliances into which the King had

forced several illustrious ladies, over whom he exercised the power of ward- ship. He would instance Margaret of Gloucester, and describe to Matilda's happy ignorance, which had never come

in contact with tyranny and vice, the savage insolence and neglect with which the gay buffoon, Gaveston, treated that royal and amiable lady. The scene would also supply a topic of persua- sion, while he deprecated the procrasti- nating coyness of Lady Phyllis, which drove the brave Sir Guy to despair, and changed the glory of Christendom into a

melancholy hermit. Fear, pity, a plead- ing lover, a recently acknowledged

love, a consenting guardian, an at- tending priest! Could a tender, ena- ( 155 ) moured maid resist such persuasions ?

Often did he rise to observe the road leading from Kenil worth, and as often mistook the echo of his own footsteps for the trampling of horses. Grown impatient, he ordered the priest to ring the vesper-bell, to hasten the worship* pers. Still Matilda did not appear. The hymn to the Virgin finished without the aid of her melodious voice. It was re- peated, and he fancied he heard her voice from the bottom of the cliff, distinctly join in this petitionary couplet :

" O, then, sweet advocate, bestow " A pitying look on us below."

When all the congregation had retired, Beauchamp waited in the chantry, half afraid to breathe, lest he should not catch the first light footstep of his ap- proaching love. A footstep was heard ; he incautiously exclaimed, " Is it my h 6 ( »5« )

,? Matilda ?" and was answered, " No. A joyous laugh and a light jest, at the detected subterfuge which concealed its indulged amours, under the pretence of training his vassals to martial exercises, announced Gondibert Fitzallan, a kins- man of the Earl of Arundel's, the friend of Surrey, and a favourite of the King.

Seating himself on Sir Guy's coffin, he swore, by the sword of the old chieftain, he would not stir till he had discovered the fair anchoret who detained him from the beauteous bevy that pleasure, and the King's mandate, collected on the banks of the Ouse.

Warwick was in no humour for rail-

lery. To be thus unseasonably inter- rupted, in what he felt to be the crisis of

his fate, was more exasperating, as Gon- dibert was not a man to be intrusted with secrets connected with a lady's

honour, or that fidelity which friend

owes to friend. Of all the knights in C 157 )

King Edward's court, he was the one whom he least wished should discover the beauty and situation of Matilda. To pre- vent this dreaded evil, he raised his voice to an higher key, well knowing that she would not appear while he was con- versing with a stranger. Gondibert con- tinued to rally him on his assignation;, till Beauchamp, unable otherwise to account for the greeting he had bestow- ed, pretended to confess an inclination for a fair wanton, from whom he would disengage his thoughts, and listen to

Gondibert's details of the proceedings at York. This theme, he proposed, should enliven their carousals at Warwick-castle, whither he pressed him to go.

The young Earl was too little practised

in disguise to deceive a finished courtier.

Gondibert declined the proposed hospi-

tality, and in his turn, speaking in a loud tone, he declared himself honoured with the commands of a beauteous Queen, C 158 )

to haste and liberate a fair nymph from bondage, and therefore bound, as a true knight, to refuse every personal indul- gence which might cause delay. His mission was to Kenil worth. Warwick trembled. Isabella had heard of the wit and beauty of Lady Matilda, whom the superannuated Queen of Navarre shut up in that castle, and had sent him, with a gallant train, to entreat her presence at a court where the bravest knights in Christendom were now assem- bled ; among whom she might gain a lover worthy her high desert and fair fortunes. Should persuasion prove in- effectual, his attendants were sufficiently numerous to give efficiency to other means of completing this generous de- sign.

Warwick's apprehensions for the im- mediate safety and honour of Matilda, again induced him to descend to an ill- contrived falsehood. He was persuaded ( 159 ) that the lady was near, his attendants were dismissed ; — Gondibert's, by his own account, armed and at hand. Was his own sword sufficient for the protection of his love ? He tried to laugh at the knight-errantry of Fitzallan; spoke of

Matilda as best fitted for the retirement in which she lived, and asked him how he would endure the gibing courtiers, when, instead of a fair accomplished beauty, he should produce an ill-favoured hoyden. Inexpert at deceit, the tremu- lous voice and ill-disguised agitation of the lover, confirmed Gondibert's suspi- cions who the Matilda was, for whom he waited in Guy's chapel. " Spare your- self," said he, gaily, " the trouble of these useless falsehoods ; deal with me as a friend, and own that the daughter of Earl Maurice is as kind as she is lovely."

Though Warwick blushed at his own meanness, in attempting to deceive, he ( i6o ) would not, even to rescue her fair form from Gondibert, utter a whisper reflecting on Matilda's fame. His only course now was to endeavour, by a full confidence, to engage that honour, which, even in the most unprincipled, sometimes shrinks from treachery. He conjured Fitzallan to reserve his censures of his conduct, till love familiarized him with that strange intruder in a soldier's bosom, fear. Ma- tilda's endowments were, in all respects, unrivalled ; they were contracted lovers, and ere she could be forced from the protection of her royal guardian, mar- riage would give him a right to meet, with unsheathed sword, any braggart who dared to impugn her liberty.

Fitzallan answered, he admitted this brave frankness as a tie upon his own honour: nay, farther, he would report to the expectant courtiers, that Earl Maurice's daughter was a betrothed vestal, whom it would be as presump- C 161 ) tuous to woo and as hopeless to win, as it would have been to tilt with the re- nowned Sir Guy for Lady Phyllis, or to break King Arthur's sword, Excaliber, and carry off Queen Guniver. He then gave a gay account of their Christmas merriment at York, and so spoke of the levity and extravagance of Lancaster's fair bride, as might have deterred a less determined lover than Beauchamp from entering into a state in which man sub- jects his peace and honour to woman's infirm judgment and wavering inclina- tions. The young Earl was ignorant; that the fair object, whom his fancy invested with all her sex's virtues, and separated from all her foibles, had overheard part of this conversation. True to her appointment,

Matilda left her attendants at the bot- tom of the cliff, and entered the chapel alone, concealed by the twilight, a few moments after Fitzallan. She staid long ( m )

enough to hear her plighted lord avow a base attachment, and speak of her as one who owed her attractions to her patri- monial lands, while Gondibert acknow-

ledged a design which realized all the

fears she had long entertained for her own freedom and happiness. Distressed

and terrified, she stole out of the chapel

with silent speed, and eluding the suite of Gondibert, whose shining helmets discovered their situation, flew back to

Kenilworth ; where, at the feet of Oueen

Blanche, she confessed all she had over- heard, without disguising her love for Warwick, or the assignation which led

to this painful knowledge of his unwor-

thiness. Blending, with the fears of vir-

gin timidity, the miseries of ill-placed affection, she supplicated her guardian to

sanction her taking the veil ; and, by the forfeiture of an inheritance which ex-

posed her to so many perils, purchase security and peace. ( »«3 )

When ingenuous simplicity candidly

entrusts its sorrows to wisdom and ex-

perience, its difficulties diminish as well

as its fears. The Queen of Navarre was too high minded to apply the misappre-

hensions of Matilda, to the furtherance of her son's love. The derogatory ex- pressions of Warwick admitted an ob-

vious explanation ; and a reliance on her own power, reputation, and dignity,

would not allow her to suspect that the King, her nephew, would licence such a

violation of her rights, as to force her ward from her protection. Yet, know- ing that the extravagance of the Arundel family had rendered them necessitous,

she thought it probable Gondibert might

visit Kenilworth ; and, on seeing Matilda, make love a pretext for an impertinent

address, injurious to her peace, if not dangerous to her safety. She ordered,

therefore, a strong escort to convey her

to Balshall ; but, as she bestowed her ( 1 64 ) parting blessing, conjured her not to permit the inticements of the sisterhood and her own temporary, and probably

ill-founded disgust at life, , to counteract the will of her father, dictated by long experience and the soundest policy. The threat she had heard of carrying her to court, might be a boast or a menace, rather than a confirmed purpose. War- wick might wish to deceive an enemy, or in that gross levity of conversation in which men indulge, utter sentiments foreign to his heart. The ties formed by a long acquaintance, must not be lightly broken ; actions will speak ; and the lover, who was enough the object of affection to be favoured with confidential proofs of chaste preference, must not, for the sake of her own fair fame, be lightly discarded : and even should time, that test of the human character, prove Beauchamp unworthy, " Still," said the Queen, " let my remembered ( 1% ) history impress on your mind two truths, important to your future peace. Formed for society, as the sphere of our duties and the proof of our virtues, it rarely happens that a first disappointment so benumbs the heart, as to render it callous to all the social ties. Grief, and the frustration of our early hopes, are too apt to induce a susceptible mind to shade its future years with the gloom of de- spair. But the sun will again rise on the morning of vernal life, brighten the dark colourings of impatience, and teach the sincere but feeble mind to revere that Providence which corrects its pre- sumption, and dispels its apprehensions. The vicissitudes of many years have taught me to substitute thankfulness for complaint. The avocations of my widow- hood may also teach you that the world, religion calls upon us to renounce, may be avoided without secluding ourselves from that in which the same authority ( iS6. ) commands us to appear as a shining light, exciting others to faith and charity." The Seneschal now announced that the escort was ready; and Queen Blanche closed her parting charge, with a com- mand, that Matilda's continuance in the nunnery should be determined by con- siderations of her own safety, and not by a recollection of the privations which her friend would suffer from the want of her dutiful attentions. ( i<7 )

CHAP. XVII.

Hear me more plainly.

I have in equal balance justly weigh'd What wrong! our arms may do, what wrongs we suffer; And find our griefs heavier than our offences. Shakespeare.

HHHE obsequies of the Earl of Lincoln were prepared with a solemn mag- nificence corresponding to his birth and his virtues. Lancaster awaited the sum- mons to attend as chief mourner, when he was at once gratified and afflicted by the appearance of Warwick, who came, he said, to claim, as a dutiful ward, the right of supporting him in the sad cere- mony. The tributary regret due to de- parted worth was paid, and the woes and wrongs of England copiously discussed over the corpse. The Earls agreed that ;

( 168 )

the sword must be the last resource to extort from the King that observance of

his vows, which neither interest, honour, nor conscience could compel. But the countenances of these nobles exhibited a sullen melancholy, which did not exactly correspond with those stern feelings of in- dignant heroism which urged them to pass the Rubicon, and plunge England into the horrors of civil war, as the only alternative to avoid ruin. Their dejec- tion spoke how deeply private distress heightened the feeling of public calamity. They reasoned on their own future des- tiny, as men indifferent to their prospects yet while their secret discontent abated the value of their self-devotedness, it gave energy to their determination of perishing in the cause of freedom. Habits of long and friendly intimacy required and justified the fullest confidence; and they soon discovered that this was not the meeting of a happy husband and a sue- ( i69 ) cessful lover. The Earl of Lancaster confessed, that levity and dissipation had robbed him of that full confidence in his wife which was essential to his peace j and Warwick, after painting the hopes which Matilda's ingenuous confession had inspired, with all the sanguine glow of impassioned fancy, proceeded to describe the death-like chill which hung upon his heart ever since her green-liveried page apologized for the broken assignation, and stated, that his lady had left the pro- tection of the Queen of Navarre, and thrown herself into a nunnery. We will avoid repeating those ungal-

lant reproaches on an insatiable thirst for pleasure, and weak infirmity of purpose,

which these querulous bare is carted were the characteristics of women. But the more saturnine displeasure of Lan- caster checked the impetuous vehemence of Warwick. " We are not," said he, " two Provencal advocates, pleading a

YOL. II. I ( *7° ) love-cause at their mock tribunal ; neither is the one a champion of the glove, nor the other a knight of the fan, killed by a frown and revived by a smile. Let our hearts be stern as the times ; and if life presents to our view no temples dedicated to domestic happiness, let us felicitate ourselves that there are fewer obstacles to interrupt our prospect when honour calls on us to look on our sepulchres." The corpse of De Lacy was interred with all those impressive honours with which religion consecrates the memory of the good and the brave. The metropo- litan cathedral was hung with black, every shrine was lighted with tapers, and lamps were placed on the monuments of the mighty dead, whose banners, waving over their effigies, seemed to invite to their silent assembly the remains of the warrior who desired that his corpse might be buried in the habiliments which charac- terised the most important warfare in ( W ) which he had been engaged. The' muffled

drum and sonorous trumpet, whose thril- ling tone is even deemed significant of

iev.ivificating summons of the arch- angel, announced the approach of the

bier. It was preceded by a long pro- cession of the Earl's ancient alms-men, two and two, clad in black gowns, and bearing immense torches. These were followed by the choir, dressed in white surplices, chaunting a dirge, and the priests and canons, with rochets over

their pontifical robes, displaying relics and crucifixes to the kneeling multitude. The body was surrounded by the household

servants, bearing tapers, and over it was held a black velvet canopy, decorated with lofty plumes. Lancaster and War-

wick followed first ; after them Hereford,

Pembroke, and a long train of patriotic

nobles ; the whole closing with men at •arms trailing their pikes, and archers with ^d bowstrings. The corpse was de-

I 2 :

( '!ff ) posited beneath its own banner ; a pur- suivant proclaimed the titles which it had once borne ; and the shield it could no longer raise was laid upon the grave. All was hushed, even the voice of sorrow was suspended, when the Earl of Lan- caster, who was seated by the episcopal throne, rose to address the people. He seemed to stand absorbed in contempla- tion ; his hands crossed on his bosom, his countenance pale, and his eyes fixed on heaven ; but after a few moments of so- lemn recollection, he turned them towards his auditory, and thus proceeded " Sorrow for irremediable losses," said he, " is the characteristic of weak minds, when it is querulously indulged at a period which requires to be marked by action. The solemn pomp of woe which attends the funeral of men exalted by their worth is not designed to call forth a more than ordinary flood of tears, but to excite that worthy emulation which ( l 73 ) may supply the void that death has made.

One chief who dies in the arms of vic- tory, calls into action a host of con-

querors ; as the martyr, who springs to heaven from a pyramid of flames, expires travailing in birth of multitudes of saints, to whom his blood proves the unction of baptism. And shall the death of a pa- triot be less fruitful, when, full of days and of glory, he is carried to his grave, like the waive sheaf to the sanctuary, a type and a promise of a redundant har- vest ? A harvest of freedom, of glory, and of peace ; but a harvest which we who survive must reap with sharpened swords and full-drawn bows ; with limbs fainting under the pressure of our iron mail, and brows worn with the load of our weighty morions. But further, it is a harvest, the fruit of which our children will eat in joyful security, while such of us whose grey heads have not fallen m the gathering, shall be pointed out to the

1 3 ( 174 ) admiration ofvirtuous gratitude, and en- joy that first gift of the Divine Ruler or mankind, the allowed repose of honour- able old age." The Earl of Lancaster then addressed the Londoners, asking them if they who, under Cassibellan, resisted Caesar in the fulness of his power, and the freshness of his Gallic victories, were content that their King should be governed by a low- born foreigner, as weak in intellect as he was base in principle, and rapacious in conduct. He called on all who loved De

Lacy ; on those whom he fed, instructed, patronized, defended ; on all who revered the memory of that monarch, by whose side the noble crusader fought in Pales- tine, to rescue their prince from the fas- cination of a vain Gascon, who wished to depress England in the scale of nations.

Edward the Great, on his death-bed, doomed Gaveston to banishment, and ex- torted an oath from his nobles, binding ( '75 )

them to execute his sentence. Would they not unanimously lend their aid to enforce the injunctions of that King, whose reign was the era of their prospe-

rity ; whose institutions diffused happi- ness, by teaching every man that know-

ledge of individual importance which in-

clined him to respect the franchises of his neighbour? The dying counsels of De Lacy, founded on the same immutable principles, pointed out the only means of rescuing the kingdom and the King from inglorious bondage. To the sword he reluctantly appealed ; but alike faithful as a subject, and honest as a patriot, he did it not to impugn, but to guard the rights of the crown, which he devoutly prayed might long sit easily and shine gloriously on the royal brow. It was for the sake of the infant prince, on whom might the mantle of his graiidsire, with a double portion of his spirit and ability, descend, to make England great and happy ! These

i 4 ;

( '76 )

were his views, and these alone ; and if fear quailed his purpose, or sinister ambi- tion warped his intentions, he now de- clared to those nobles and freemen, whom he invited to rally round the banners of Lancaster and Lincoln, that they should stand absolved from their engagements to him, leaving him exposed to the igno- miny, opprobrium, and danger, which are the fit portions of cowardly rebels and treacherous usurpers : " May my bones," continued he, " never mingle with the dust of my royal ancestors ; may they never even be gathered within the conse- crated inclosure' of a Christian sanctuary and may the violent death of the felon and the traitor suspend my remains to the gaze of the vulgar, without either wife

or child to shroud their dishonour ! But till I forfeit your confidence by -my un- worthiness, or till a leader offers more worthy your trust, brothers in arms and

fellow-soldiers ! in defence of the Great ( l 77 )

Charter, and the honour of your King, let us, over the grave of the good Earl of Lincoln, pledge the oath of mutual fidelity."

This appeal was answered by the toss- ing up of caps and the clashing of swords. The populace of London, whom the

King's emissaries had in vain endeavoured to form into a party against the barons, readily enlisted under their standards, having been ever inclined to the cause of freedom, since they took so decided a part in the insurrection of Simon de Mont- ford. Nor did the bishops and priests, whom this solemn ceremony assembled, endeavour to abate this enthusiasm. Be- ing composed of the most enlightened part of the sacerdotal order, they re- spected the independence of the English church, and saw that it was the design of the King's evil counsellors, by their entire submission to the Roman pontiff, to pur- chase from him a full im.nnnity for their

i 5 ( i78 ) inroads on the English constitution, under the covenant of their permitting him to exercise spiritual supremacy. The nobles moved from distant parts of the choir, to assemble round De Lacy's grave, but that spot was already occupied : a female pe- nitent lay upon the earth, in the ex- tremest agonies of grief; the ashes which were strewed upon her head disfigured her countenance ; and her amice of coarse sackcloth entirely enveloped her person. Some of the attendants attempted to chide away the sad intruder, but she was in- sensible to their threats ; and a compas- sionate priest bore her in his arms from the spot, just as the Earl of Lancaster descended from the throne to meet his associates in arms, receive their vows, and accept the office of leader of the confede- ration, to which his birth and character alike called him. Yet even during the warm glow of patriotism, the throb of honourable ambition, and the apprehen*

5 ( 179 ) sions which the welfare of millions thus entrusted to his care excited, he felt for the sorrows of the penitent whom the priest was bearing from the tumultuary- scene ; and hearing that she was an un- known, friendless mourner for the Earl of Lincoln, he gave orders that she should be conveyed to the Savoy palace. As soon as his public duties were ended, he dismissed the now cumbrous train who waited upon and applauded his newly-invested honours, and retired from the clamorous cry of " Lancaster for

England !" to his oratory, to commune with his own heart, to examine his ca- pability, and to discover and guard against his frailties, previous to his en- tering on the high functions he had as- sumed. His devotions were interrupted by the arrival of a pursuivant, sent to announce that the Countess of Lancaster,

with a sumptuous train, was on her way

to London, to attend the funeral of her

i 6 ( m ) father, and had halted at the village of

Islington to receive his commands. And did the unnatural daughter and disobe- dient wife, whose conduct he so strongly reprobated, indeed bear his name ? Full of emotion for De Lacy's wrongs and his own shames, with feelings still more powerfully agitated by the solemn scene at which he had just assisted, he replied, that he had no commands for the Countess of Lancaster, but wished to speak to the

grateful penitent who wr ept so bitterly over the good Earl of Lincoln, since, by

her sensibility, which he supposed was excited by the loss of one friend, she had secured another. Self-respect prevented him from adding, that he had rather console her sorrows, than attend to the cumbrous pride and ill-timed parade of one who

appeared to have forgotten that first com-

mand, to whose obedience Heaven at-

tached the promise of temporal blessing. The penitent appeared. Her golden ( i8i ) locks were cleansed from the symbol of humiliation ; they fell as a veil over her face, but their luxuriance and beauty pro- claimed their owner. " Cast me not off !" said she, falling at his feet. " Cast not off your self-condemned Alicia, though you renounce the vain dissipated Countess of Lancaster !**

Amazed and terrified, the Earl raised her, and grasping her clasped hands, as one who would prevent a deed of despera- tion, exclaimed, " Can it be my wife in this penitentiary garb, and suppliant pos- ture ? Why not attend your father's ob- sequies in your proper character ? Why- renounce, with the duties of your station, the attendance and the dignity my rank, and your own birth, require ?"

" I am your faithful wife," returned the Lady Alicia, " who, renouncing the vain pursuit of evanescent pleasure, comes

contrite for her follies, to be corrected by your clemency, and fashioned by your ;

( i8a ) example. It did not beseem one who knew she had omitted her first duties, to appear in state at the funeral of that fa- ther, whose death-bed she had never smoothed. You, my generous lord, are the only witness of my self-imposed humiliation; and your pardon for my past indiscretions, will so renovate my sinking heart, and confirm my resolution, that I shall not fear to tell a censorious, inquisitive world, by my future conduct, that I am indeed the princely Lancaster's wife, restored to my own confidence, and enjoying his." " My Alicia !" said the Earl, as he folded her in his arms ; " I forgive the past, and have hope of the future. Thou hast discovered the avenues to my heart but do not enter it again by this agoniz- ing portal; though thou hast found that the tear of penitence, and the blush of self-reproach subdue a disposition on ( i8 3 ) which the blandishments of beauty would have been tried in vain.''

It was the first offence of his beloved consort, — Lancaster was sanguine in his hopes that it would be her last. Alicia was also fixed in her determination to be henceforth a most observant wife. She had been disappointed in her pursuit of happiness, and now as much undervalued the powerful temptation of prospective pleasures, as she formerly had remained

ignorant how surely satiety of enjoyment creates remorse.

" But will not my dear lord," said she, with a plaintive smile, " suffer me

to follow his banner, whether it points to

glory or to danger ? Not that I now dis-

trust my prudence, even if I were left to my own guidance, for my renunciation

of the court is full and entire ; the dis- gust of conviction, the enmity of ensnared

ignorance at duplicity and frivolity. But during the stormy days, which must ( i«4 )

precede a kingdom's renovation, I shall want a protector, and you a ministring attendant. You will not leave me ex- posed to insults and dangers, but suffer me to act as your page, to burnish your mail, to prepare the bath, and dress your tent wlien you return from battle ; and then to sing you to sleep with a suppli- catory hymn to your guardian angel. So Eleanora of Castile acted, and thus dearest Lancaster would I."

To the romantic tenderness of this pro- posal the Earl answered, that the warfare on which he was going to enter, differed widely from the pompous tournament, when knights fought in trim parade, and lodged in rich pavilions ; and ladies sat to witness a bloodless combat, and ad- judge the reward of skill and activity.

The war he must wage was, of all others, the most ferocious. The prize was not a purpled scarf, or a golden chain ; but life, liberty, honour, the prosperity of ( i8 5 ) the present age, the security of the fu- ture. Courage must put forth all its

all its strength ; policy mature counsels ; and man meet man pre-determined to die or conquer. " My mail," added he,

" will want no polish, but the friction of continuous conflict ; the nearest rivulet will be at once my bath and beverage ; the earth my bed ; and heaven's concave my pavilion. I trust, too, my guardian angel will hear a soldier's brief prayer, whose thoughts must not be diverted from the high duties annexed to his awful responsibility, by his fears for his beloved wife's safety, or his delight in her society. The pre-eminence which your father's desires, and the choice of my brother- patriots, have conferred on me, is that of danger, care, and labour. We war against luxury ; and must hold no secret league with the enemy of our country.

Not one privation will I escape, not one indulgence will I enjoy, that shall draw a ( 186 ) sigh of regret from the meanest of my compatriots ; or confirm the forgeries of envy, when she talks of the forgotten soldiers' sufferings, and the fortunate general's gratifications and rewards." Alicia listened unconvinced, fancying that the warrior's wants and labours could not greatly exceed the regimen of Father Ambrose, or the fatigue and mortifica- tion of a court life. On the former topic she was compelled to be silent, the piety of her lord not permitting the extra- vagance of a zeal, which he accounted sincere, to be treated with censure or levity ; but in describing the wearisome routine, absurdly named pleasure, she gratified him in being copious ; and though she did not convince him that she was fit to brave the brunt of battle, he was persuaded that disappointment would habituate her to the exercise of that for- titude which is truly feminine. " Surely," said he to himself, " a woman, who has [ »*7 )

so strongly felt the serpent sting of con- venient friendships, has seen envy's mil-

dew blast merit, and promised assistance

prove a quicksand to ingulph the unwary;

she who has fainted under the toil of amusement, and durst not drop the mockery of those constrained smiles, which outraged a heart throbbing with

insupportable disgust ; she whose keen

sensibilities shake her frame, .while she

recounts these her trials, must henceforth renounce the witcheries of pleasure, and be a votaress of the domestic virtues." But with a confidence re-assured by

every new discovery of her altered senti-

ments, the Earl of Lancaster felt more

determined to place his consort at a dis- tance from danger. A camp, he told

her, was only a scene fit for extraordinary female heroism, and consummate pru-

dence. Tenderly as he prized her vir-

tues, they were of a different cast from Eleanora's of Castile; and ere she at- ( i88. ) tempted to take that princess for her model, she must train her mind, by gra- dual imitation, to become her copyist.

He would first recommend to her the daily exercises of devotion, till her soul, raised to form a proper estimate of sub- lunary good, would be superior to the light agitation of passing events, and thus preserved from the elation incident to success, or the fear of destitution in the hour of calamity. It was her duty also to pray for the militant soldier ; to offer oblations for the souls of those who fell in the glorious cause; to provide for their widows and orphans ; and to supply the wants of the maimed. Alicia readily agreed to all these preparatory duties.

Her castles, she said, should become the asylums of the unfortunate ; and in every d^ing she would be guided by the coun- sels of her confessor. This promise did not perfectly square with the previous

sincerity of her purposes, for she was sen- C '89 ) sible that Sir Hilary's moral code differed from her lord's. But her terror of hav- ing Father Ambrose forced upon her, induced her to conceal this discovery, and she recollected that she was at liberty to dismiss him whenever she found him too indulgent ; while the Earl of Lan- caster, from his respect for churchmen, and attention to what he deemed just con- fidence in his wife, alike abstaining from all interference in her household, and

from suspecting that an agreeable viva-

city of manners was synonymous with a

toleration of immorality, rested satisfied

in Alicia's promised deference to her ghostly father.

The first step which the confederated

barons agreed to take, was to repair to their respective counties, and summon their vassals to arms. The maternal

estates of the Countess of Lancaster lay in the west of England, and there the

Earl determined to erect his standard, ( *9*

and make Canford-castle (a magnificent

pile on the banks of the Stour, close to Wimborn minster,) the rendezvous of his party. Alicia wished to accompany him to what had been for generations the seat of the Earls of Salisbury, observing, that her presence and influence would expe- dite the levy. To this Lancaster strongly objected, commenting on the invidious indelicacy of her appearing active in raising forces, which must ostensibly act against the royal personages, for whom she had professed personal friendship; on the needless irritation of such a pro- ceeding ; and on the danger to which it would expose her, without any benefit to the cause, since she would from hence- forth be rightly considered as a principal in the war, and, in forfeiting the privi- leges which chivalry bestowed on her sex, would subject herself to imprison- ment, or harsher treatment, if she fell into the King's power. He further ar- f-igi ) gued, that though Canford-castle was strong enough to sustain a regular siege, it was too far distant, from what promised to be the centre of their operations, for him to spare a sufficient force for its de- fence, without injury to the common cause. He advised, therefore, that she should reside with her mother, under the protection of the nuns of Amesbury, or with Queen Blanche, at his well-fortified royalty of KenHworth, till the war ended. Of two plans, neither of which were very palatable, Alicia preferred the latter, as imposing the least restriction on that li- berty which she was now desirous of using, to regain the reputation which her extravagance and dissipation had forfeited.

Early severity occasioned a painful chill as often as she recollected the image of the Countess of Lincoln; and she had the address to give such an engaging colour-

ing to her choice of his mother, that the

Earl of Lancaster was persuaded that she ( l 9 2 )

would come from the purifying ordeal of the Queen of Navarre's society, as per- fect in discretion, and every domestic virtue, as she was now in grace and beauty.

The time of their separation could no longer be delayed ; the barons were all gone to their respective posts, and Sir

Robert Holland, with his troops, was ready to escort Alicia. The general must not be tardy ; he was armed and

prepared to go, but . lingered for | mo- ment, unmanned by the tears of his

Countess. -Unused to control her feel- ings, she, on the present occasion, fancied that there was virtue in their excess.

She hung on her Lord's arm, she fol- lowed him to the door, when he at- tempted to break from her, and by her hysterical sobs compelled him to return, and support her. She called this con- jugal affection, not considering how grievously it increased the perturbation ( *93 ) of that noble heart, which should have gone forth braced to its trials, by its dependence on her fortitude. To check, this extravagance of lamentation, he shewed her from the court of his palace the separation of a soldier and his family. The man was an artisan, on whom that family depended for support; he em- braced each of his children with fervour, and bestowed on them an agnus dei or a crucifix as a memorial, giving a fonder kiss to the youngest, a smiling infant,

whom he placed in the arms of its mother. The woman stood firm, suspending even

her sighs, while she listened to his parting

advice ; it was only that she would attend

daily at the convent of the Grey Friars, who would feed her and her children, but never be importunate, or take more than sufficed hunger, because multitudes

were as destitute as herself. If he was

afciii, he enjoined her (if even by the

sale of her wedding-ring), to purchase a

VOL. II. K ( *94 )

wax-taper and some frankincense, and

offer it to a priest, to procure a mass for

his soul. He finally conjured her never

to despair, though she begged her bread, and to bring up her boys true-hearted Englishmen. These injunctions being bestowed, the nameless hero followed the pennon of his leader, contented and re-

solved ; and his patient partner, drying her eyes in silence, collected her desolate

family, and retired, to enter on a life of penury.

" Is the descendant of the Earls of Lincoln and Salisbury," said the General, addressing his Countess, " whom fame follows to her privacies, whom wealth

encircles with its comforts, over whom

power extends its shield, whom the brave

will rush to defend, and the enlightened to

admire, less equal to the performance of

her prescribed duties than this destitute mother, who collects her ragged children, and shields them from the cold sleet with ( m ) their father's cast gabardine? Her de- pendence is a life of mendicity ; her re- source from famine, the unsavoury offal of a frugal convent; yet she has the same feelings, passions, desires as thyself.

To her, sufficiency is as grateful, rest as sweet, want as bitter. Think of her often, not with useless pity, but with generous emulation. Fastidious great- ness may receive an improving lesson from the mute endurance of indigence, whenever it condescends to remember,' that as they are equal in the eyes of the universal Lord, so in respect of corporeal feeling, they are brothers of the same family, with only this difference, that in- dulgence has in one case fomented sen- sibility, and in the other, privation has subdued it." " Then, how," returned Alicia,

" acquire glory by sacrificing it with heroism ; nor hope for reflected renown, derived from the fame of her husband. The silence of uninterrupted sorrow, the gloom of unregarded patience, will shroud her days, chill her hopes, and consign her name to oblivion. But whe- ther we meet again in my palace, or on my scaffold ; whether thou shalt be re- quired to embroider a robe for my triumph, or to adjust the bracings of my grave-cloaths, the eyes of thy contem- poraries are fixed upon thee ; and fame, which records thy name among the great ones of the earth, shall teach posterity to sit in judgment on thy behaviour. Yet, awful as this consideration seems, it is but a puerile incitement j for remember, that all-seeing eye, which overlooks not the outcast on the dunghill, minutely watches C '97 )

thee ; and at that hour, when merciful al- lowance will be made for the errors of ignorance, and the infirmities of over- tempted indigence, thou and I, dearest wife, will be required to render a strict ac- count of our intrusted ten talents, for the mis-usings of reputation, of knowledge, of time, of friends, of wealth, of power, and of every endowment which we thank- lessly dash in the donor's face, or mis- apply through perverted appetite. Placed on the large theatre of public life, with men and angels for our spectators, and our Creator for our judge, let us patiently encounter its annexed privations, and me- ditate on our duties, and the rewards so graciously promised, till our dolours are exchanged for gratulations, and generous zeal stimulates the exertions which regret

would palsy. So numerous and so fatal are the snares which beset us fostered

children of prosperous fortunes, that when

our emancipated spirits have soared above

* 3 !

( *9& ) the mists of time, we shall largely rejoice at every admonitory trial which assisted us to burst the bonds of sloth and sen- suality." With these words the Earl sprang upon his charger, while the flourish of trumpets and acclamations of a joyous multitude, who hailed his long-expected appearance, drowned the parting sobs of the Countess. Yet, stimulated by his persuasions, she tried to act the heroine, following him with firmness to the gates of the palace, and as he turned to look his last farewell, waved her veil, in token that she would observe his counsels. The exquisite beauty of her countenance, and the grace- fulness of her action, drew the attention of the populace, who showered their blessings upon her in loud cries of " Heaven preserve thee, lovely lady May the blessed Mary comfort thee, for the sake of the good Earl Thomas of Lancaster !" These exhilarating cries, ( »99 ) issuing from a thousand different voices, whose countenances spoke the rapture of sincere affection, gave a new turn to Alicia's feelings, and while they shewed her the privileges that belonged to a hero's wife, strengthened her ability to support its character. Almost forgetting her Lord's dangers, in her desire to obey his instructions, she set off for Kenil- worth, determined to be the diligent pupil of Queen Blanche, and the faithful copist of Oueen Eleanora. The Earl of Lancaster proceeding to

Canford-castle, proposed visiting the

monastery of Amesbury in his way, to

relate to the Countess of Lincoln, for whose reported piety and charity he con- ceived a high reverence, the particulars of her husband's death, and her daughter's

espousals. But the strict rule which that lady had adopted, would not allow her the indulgence of seeing her princely

son-in-law - sent therefore, by 7 she him k 4 ( 2CO ) her confessor, her greetings, and some valuable relicks, namely, a small quantity of St. Dunstan's beard, and some stones, spotted with the blood of Saint Winifred.

She further signified her full approbation of his designs to reform a dissolute court, wishing him to regard one of the trea- sures she sent as a memento confirming his hatred to licentious, tyrannical kings, which procured the blessed prelate, to whom it belonged^ a high rank among the confessors and champions of the church ; while the other would, if em- ployed with due faith, and rigid mortifi- cation, heal all the wounds he received in the sacred cause. In conclusion, she conjured him to avoid even a political connexion with the abandoned, bloody Earls of Surrey and Mortimer, giving his confidence only to men of spotless cha- racter, and firm principles ; and in all cases; to prefer the interests of the church to all while worldly motives $ yet he ( 201 ) washed the palace with the blood of the foreign revellers who had polluted it, to respect the holy bishops whom their good father, the Pope, had sent, to instruct the nation in a more perfect rule of Christian practice. On these terms, she sent the Earl her blessing and prayer, that he might be rewarded with length of days, and a numerous issue.

Lancaster received this extraordinary message as he entered on the demesne- lands appropriated to the earldom of Salisbury. On these confines he was also met by a princely train of knights and esquires, each under his own banner, and at the head of his respective archers or heavy-armed cuirassiers. They had assembled on first seeing the standard mounted on the turrets of Canford, and now appeared in all the pomp of feudal array, ready to follow to battle the chief- tian, whom they saluted with loud accla- mations, and an inspiring swell of military

* 5 ( 202 ) music. Illustrious for his birth, his virtues, and the rank which the confi- dence of the confederated barons had bestowed upon him, they proceeded to escort the princely stranger to the resi- dence of the puissant Earl of Salisbury, like himself renowned for piety and valour. But before the Earl would consent to receive the keys of his castle, he repaired to Wimborn Minster, to pay his devo- tions. Not satisfied with a liberal offering to Saint Cuthberg, the patroness of the family, he required to be conducted to the cemetery, where the progenitors of his Countess were preserved from ming- ling with the common dust, piously con- sidering a sight of human greatness in this state of destitution, the best pre- parative for his inauguration into their abdicated possessions. He stopped at every coffin, inquiring the name and the actions of the dead, whose dust it con- ( 203 ) tained, observing, with surprise, that the silver handles were burnished/the velvet coverings perfectly clean, and that a cresset, newly trimmed, hung in the centre of the vault. He commended this respectful attention to those who could no longer enforce the claims of admiration or gratitude ; but approbation was changed into horror and commisera- tion, when he discovered the person from whom this labour was exacted, — a mi- serable female, whose form indicated famine, while her countenance spoke that despair had suspended her toil at his entrance, and that she stood gazing on his features, till perceiving she had caught his attention, she raised her hands in a beseeching attitude, indicating, that she was apprehensive of increased punishment for this momentary indul- gence.

The Earl, pointing to the woman, asked

if this was a voluntary penance, or a penal k 6 ( 204 ) infliction. He was answered, that she was a shameless culprit, whom the justice of good Lady Margaret and holy Father Ambrose had sentenced to this task for seven years, when, if she survived, and professed contrition, she would be allowed to take the veil, among the sisters of Saint Clare. Were her miseries never intermitted ? Never, except the few hours when she was allowed to repose in her dormitory, or during the time of di- vine worship, when she was admitted to the great aisle of the cathedral, and heard the priests sing the litanies. Further, on high festivals of the church, she was led to the adjoining nunnery, where lying down at the portal, the sisters spurned her with their feet, after which she was indulged with a small mess from the re- fectory. This was her only intercourse

with human beings ; at all other tjmes her food was water, and the coarsest bread, and to offer her consolation, or u ( 2o5 ) attempt to allay her sufferings, would in- cur the greater excommunication. The Earl of Lancaster shuddered with horror, but inquired her name, and her crime. wThe canons of Wimborn an- swered, that relying on the justice and piety bf the Countess and her confessor, they had not presumed to ask. The general opinion decided it was witchcraft, which she was believed still to practise in her subterraneous abode, for dreadful noises issued from the vaults, as if she drew the dead warriors from their coffins, and compelled them to fight with each other. Was she not young ? Yes, un- twenty. Again the Earl der shuddered ; it was the age of his own Countess, and he thought there was a resemblance in their persons. " Who," said he, " has power to remit this infernal sentence i" " The Earl of Sri: bury for the time being, as paramoul lord, can alone re- scind the decree of our sovereign lady, ( 206 ) who by entering a convent has abrogated her natural right." By the death of De Lacy, and the deed of gift which accom- panied his own marriage, vesting in him- self the fee-simple of all his matrimonial earldoms, Lancaster was virtually Earl of

Salisbury. " Be this then," said he, !" " the first exercise of my allodial rights and calling the miserable object before him, in the name of the All Merciful, he pronounced, that the miseries she had endured atoned for her crimes.

Either surprise at this unlooked for act of grace suspended her faculties, or the long horrors of her situation had produced temporary idiotism ; fixed in a horrid stupor, Agatha remained mo- tionless and incredulous, till the Earl re- peated his assurances that she was liberated from all temporal punishment. Suddenly her bosom heaved tumultuously, her form became convulsed, and with a shriek, that sounded through the echoing caverns ;

( 207 ) of death, she asked, if he was th? angel Michael, the subduer of Satan. Lan- caster gravely answered that he was like herself, mortal, and a sinner. " And fear you not their thunderbolts ?" said she, pointing to the regular canons of Wim- born, who stood at his side. The pitying Earl ordered that she should be fed, cloathed, and indulgently treated, and when her senses were restored, he would converse with her, and endeavour to ren- der her fit for spiritual absolution. He then reproved the priests for their se- verity, who replied, that they were merely instruments in the hands of the Countess and relating all they knew of the wretched Agatha's story, added, that her punish- ment would have been mitigated, but for her own obduracy, in refusing to recall the execrations she had uttered in' her despair, and the Countess, attributing to these the premature death of her son, became inexorable. ( 208 )

" And would she mollify a hard heart," inquired the Earl, " by treating the body which contains it as if it were a block of marble ? In old times, the intended sa- crifice was not driven into the temple with scourges, but lured by minstrelsy, and crowned with flowers. How long shall man, when invested with accidental power, treat hi fellow-mortal as a beast

to bear his burdens, or a machine, to be

9 impelled by his will V Summoning Lady Margaret's confessor, he bade him carry back to that pious lady, from the man on whose bosom her husband expired, and her daughter reposed, a present, rare as the sacred relicks she had given him, namely, a handkerchief, wet with tears, forced from eyes unused to weep, on be- holding the victim whom she immured to disturb her progenitors, and curse her

descendants. Accustomed to improve every circumstance into a moral regula- tion for his own conduct, Lancaster, ( 2o9 )

while he reflected on the self-deceit of

Lady Margaret, in calling herself just and devout, resolved to be more indul- gent to the failings of Alicia, who, dis- gusted by her mother's morose, melan- choly, and cruel inflexibility, suffered her vivacity and susceptibility to hurry her into the more amiable but dangerous ex- treme of irresolution and unbounded in- dulgence, not only of her own desires, but of the extravagance and indiscretion of her household.

To return to Agatha. Whether the merciless severity of her punishment had so. inured her to the extremes of misery, as to render her soul callous to the call of contrition, and the claims of gratitude ; or whether her temper was naturally of that base kind which clemency cannot correct, nor benevolence attach ; after the first tumult of surprise subsided, the kindness of the Earl of Lancaster pro- duced no sense of remorse, no wish for ;

( 210 ) conciliation. With a stern indifference to her future fortunes, she was only fixed in two points, to receive no favour from the son of Lady Margaret, except the natural right of liberty, and to cherish interminable revenge against the house of her persecutor. She would accept neither a purse nor a pension ; she de- sired no reconciliation with the church she rejected, with disdain, the offer of being married to her seducer ; nor would she reside with an aged peasant, who pro- mised to treat her as his daughter, nor enter into the sisterhood of Saint Clare. Standing in the presence of the princely

Lancaster, she assumed a haughty air of equality, and only demanded to be left to herself, to repair her own marred for- tunes. The chapter of Wimborn insisted that she ought to be confined in the con- vent of Black Penitents, as incorrigibly infamous ; but the Earl thought she liad suffered enough for her past crimes, and ( 2" )

reprobated the injustice of an anticipated punishment for those she was supposed

to meditate. Agatha,^iherefore, was set at liberty, and by immediately disappear- ing, without permitting the inquisitive to discover the place of her retreat, con- firmed the neighbourhood in the opinion, that she was a sorceress, deeply schooled in the same arts by which the mother of Gaveston had fascinated the King. Va- rious reports were circulated respecting the shapes which she had assumed, and the mischiefs she had wrought, since her liberation ; and prayers were offered at all the neighbouring crosses, to preserve the good Earl who took arms to break the spells of one enchantress, from being bewitched by another, and prevented from executing his purpose of making poor men rich, and England fruitful and pros- perous. ;

( 2I 2 )

CHJP...flHr • XVIIL

Our valuation shall be such, That ev'ry slight and false derived cause, Yea, ev'ry idle, nice, and wanton reason,

Shall to the King taste of this action That, were our royal faiths martyrs in love, We shall be winnow'd with so rough a wind, That ev'n our corn shall seem as light as chafE Skakespeaxe.

T^ LATED by a popularity which had been most honourably acquired* superior to all sinister views, and too

confident in his own strength to suppose himself capable of being misled by am-

bition, rashness, or revenge, Thomas Plantagenet, Earl of Lancaster, unfurled the banner of insurrection, ostensibly

proclaiming his motives to be, the desire

of fulfilling the dying commands of his

uncle, and of liberating his cousin from ignominious thraldom. His own oath to ( "3 )

King Philip of France, was a further in- ducement to take arms, though respect for the Queen's confidence imposed si-

lence ; on this head, ^Proceeding toward the north, with the vassals of Salisbury, he was joined by his chamberlain, Sir

Robert Holland, who on this occasion had acted as his lieutenant, and collected the feudal retainers of the earldoms of Derby, Leicester, Lancaster, Lincoln, and Chester, to defend the liberty, and revive the glory of England. Thus, with almost half the force of the king- dom under his command, he seemed scarcely to require the assistance of other barons to surprise and subdue an indo- lent king and his unpopular minion. But

though his allies were less powerful, they

had been equally vigilant. Some, like

himself were actuated by sincere patriot- ism, and persuaded that the din of arms

was the only lullaby to the cries of their

country $ others were invidiously jealous ( 214 . )

of the rising strength of the lower orders, * and fearful of the diminution of their own importance, -by a closer connexion between the commons and the crown. Some persuaded themselves to think that they disliked tyranny and profusion, be-

cause they felt piqued at not being the dis-

pensers of power and emolument ; while others boldly disputed the bounds of the prerogative, and, denying the King's right

to choose the great officers of state, sub-

stituted the rule of an overbearing aris- tocracy for universal freedom. But whatever was the chieftain's design, his conviction of the penalties annexed to rebellion forcibly impelled him to give efficiency to that struggle which posterity

characterizes from its issue. The civic

crown of the triumphant patriot, or the

disjointed limbs of the condemned traitor, were full in the minds' eyes of the asso-

ciated barons, to stimulate enterprize, and excite terror. Urged by these motives* 6 ( 2I 5 ) they were not satisfied with those forces which the prescribed regulations of mi- litary tenure assembled round their ban- ners, but also called on the chartered towns which contained an independent commonalty, urging them to take arms.

Conformably to the dying counsels of the Earl of Lincoln, in all their proclama- tions they preserved a personal respect for the King, who was described as well disposed to his subjects, and worthy of their exertions to free him from the evil influence of a man, to whom every public misfortune, and almost every individual calamity, was ascribed. Thus, while the populace were taught, that by rebellion they fulfilled their duty to their late so- vereign, they were also led to expect from the death of Gaveston immunity from taxes, a flourishing commerce, and the suspension of physical as well as

moral evils. By these means an over- whelming force was collected, and a ( 216 )

vindictive spirit inspired, of which even those who admitted the necessity deplored the misdirection; while the enemies o( England rejoiced to see her consume

those resources in civil discord, which might have secured her national hide* pendence.

It was impossible for King Edward to be ignorant of these preparations, though, instead of deliberating on some means of satisfying his nobles, or securing himself from their assaults, he minded nothing but to pursue his diversions at York, or to heap new favours on his minion, remaining in a state of surprising indo- lence, though he saw the whole kingdom ready to rise against him. He seemed to affect to act continually against his own interests, and to neglect to take such measures as a person of an ordinary un- derstanding might have pointed out.

While the glitter of his court was kept tip by fops, and its gaiety by buffoons C 217 ) and mimics of every description, he be- lieved the foreign mercenaries, who were retained by Gaveston, would form a suf- ficient barrier to secure him from the por- tentous multitude inlisted on the side of the barons ; and he even imagined him- self to be in a condition to give laws to the insurgents, till his immediate resi- dence was beleagured by the accumulat- ing numbers of his foes. He then turned his eyes to look for friends, and made the lamentable discovery, that the summer flies of prosperity are scattered by the first blast of misfortune.

By the side of the King stood his now terrified favourite, his infant son, and his indignant Queen ; the latter secretly re- joicing in her husband's difficulties, and meditating an escape to the lords of her own party, who would insure safety to herself and the young prince. The Bishop of Lichfield, and a few other churchmen and barons, who, next to Gaveston, were

vol. II. L ( ai8 ) the most obnoxious men in the kingdom, adhered to the royal cause, as the means of securing their own lives. The Earl of Gloucester, whose virtues would have reflected some popularity on his uncle the King, declined engaging in this con- test, but kept his small force on the northern border to intimidate the Scots, as the truce made by the Earl of Lan- caster was now expired. Surrey, and his brother-in-law Arundel, assembled their vassals, but seemed to waver as to their employment. The King reviewed his forces, but even his own besotted expec- tations could place no dependence on the feeble, disorderly, dispirited muster ; he therefore fled — fled from his own sub- jects ; but he fled with Gaveston, leaving his Queen, then in a situation which more tenderly demands a husband's solicitude, though she with tears implored him to

preserve her from the apprehended in-

sults of those outlaws and marauders, ( 2i 9 ) who often precede or follow the course of a regular army, by placing her in some castle, where terms might be made which would prevent all hazard of personal in- dignity. Gaveston was all the King'g

care ; all his solicitude was to place him in one of his strongest fortresses, and, as if his danger roused that dormant courage and capability of exertion, of which his excellent education and earlier years gave fair promise, he shook off the stupor that indolence and intemperance had engen- dered, and resolved to raise his banner h> the centre of England, stake his own se- curity, appeal to the affection that his subjects once bore him, and to their ad- miration of his father, and fight even to death for his crown, and for the preser- vation of the man whom, with lamentable pertinacity of affection, he still called his dearest friend. Meantime the Earl of Lancaster occu- pied York, and pursuing the royal fugi- ( 220 ) tives, overtook the Queen at Tinemoutb, whose person he deemed it expedient to secure. Though he treated her with all the respect due to her royal dignity, he declined any private interview which might tend to render his loyalty or her fame questionable. Sending her back with a guard to Wallingford, he waited to know which way the King had shaped his course, and soon learned that, after a short stay at Newcastle, he had gone by sea to Scarborough, in the castle of which town he deposited Gaveston, recommend- ing him to the governor as a most pre- cious trust, and sure pledge of royal con- fidence. Leaving him there, the King, with the rest of his evil counsellors, made a desperate push, and suddenly erecting the royal standard in Warwickshire, ap- peared before Kenil worth-castle, hoping, by its surprisal, to obtain possession of prisoners whose value would insure the safety of his friend. But while he was ( Mi )

thus engaged, the new-raised levies of the Earl of Pembroke, marching from the

eastern side of Yorkshire, received infor-

mation of the King's flight, and the place

of Gaveston's retreat : thither they im- mediately proceeded, and commenced

the siege of Scarborough with such vi- gour, that though the castle was one of

the strongest in the kingdom, it was so

ill provided against a fierce attack, that in a few days Gaveston was under a ne-

cessity of delivering himself into the hands

of his enemies. He, however, obtained a capitulation, by which he was promised to be once more permitted to see the

King, and that he should be tried by his peers, according to the laws of England. With a constancy worthy a better ob- ject, the King omitted nothing which he thought could insure the safety of his

friend. Before he left the north, he is- sued a proclamation, threatening with loss of life and possessions, all who should lay

L 3 ;

( 222 )

violent hands on the Earl of Cornwall but the powerless threat only excited the

scoffs cf the indignant lords. His me- naced seizure of Kenilworth was resisted by the magnanimity of the Queen of Na- varre, who, though in the last stage of a

cruel disease, evinced a martial hardihood, which in those days was often combined with the softer virtues of the feminine character. As soon as she heard that her son's banner was erected in opposi- tion to regal authority, she put her forti- fications in a state of complete repair, summoned her vassals, and trained them to the use of arms ; and when the King's forces appeared before her walls, she caused herself to be carried in a chair, and placed on the battlements. There she gave audience to the pursuivant, whom she prohibited from entering her gates, to take note of her means of de- fence. Peremptorily refusing to deliver the keys, she bade him go tell her kins- ( «3 )

man, the King, that if he forgot his duty

to his subject, and his affection for his

aunt, she remembered what she owed to her brother, her husband, and her son, from whom she received, and for whom she kept royal Kenilworth, where the en- slaved dupe of a traitor Gascon should never enter but as her prisoner. And if, regardless of what he owed to a peer of

his own blood, and in breach of his co- ronation oath, he dared to bring one of

his war-wolves to batter the walls, she

would hang the first prisoner she took on

highest pinnacle of her keep, even if

ing his death-warrant was her last act. cc And should I," continued she,

" die during the siege, the keys of Ke-

nilworth shall be buried in my coffin, and your master shall commit sacrilege, be- fore he enters as a conqueror those gates which often seemed to open spontane- ously to give the rites of hospitality to his father/' l 4 ( 224 )

The newly-enkindled courage of the

King was of too susceptible a nature to survive such a spirited rebuff, especially as at the same time he received intelli- gence that Gaveston was taken prisoner by the triumphant barons. To save his life was now all his care j and he instantly resolved to disband his forces, submit to the insurgents, and by entreaty and con- cession divert their fury from their in- tended victim. In a glossing harangue, which affected to refer his behaviour to clemency, and a desire of avoiding the waste of Christian blood, he thanked his friends for their services, and recom- mended to them a peaceable behaviour in their own houses, as the best way of promoting the welfare of his distracted kingdom ; at the same time assuring them, that he would exert the utmost of his abi- lity to procure an act of amnesty from the parliament, which the barons would require him to assemble. The chieftains ( 225 ) heard him with indignation, despising a prince whom it was glory to resist, and shame and danger to obey. Some of them were merely soldiers of fortune, at- tached to the royal cause by an expecta- tion of the plunder they should gain by storming the castles, and wasting the lands of the confederated lords. To these Ke- nilworth appeared a tempting prize ; and to be scared away without trying the chance of one assault, by the tongue-bra- very of a woman, was insupportable to those who expected, from the then unsub- dued license of war, a full indulgence to the fiends of lust, cruelty, and rapine.

Some, in the distant view which they had taken of the magnificent pile, had se- lected the pinnacle, on which the Queen of Navarre's head might be fixed, a horrid and conspicuous beacon, illumined by the conflagration of the edifice. Others were casting lots who should first possess the fair daughter of De Lacy. Various

L 5 { 226 )

were the claimants for the arras-embrdi- dery, plate, gold, and jewels, the collected heir-looms of Artois and Lancaster. And thus, after the King's departure, many a fierce adventurer remained with his dis- contented bands, murmuring at being dis- missed to a life of inactivity, impatient to lay waste the country, and only wanting a leader as lawless and desperate as him- self. A man of that stamp soon pre- sented himself, in the person of Gondi- bert Fitz-alJan, to whom the possession of Earl Maurice's heiress appeared a thing equally desirable and feasible. This bold libertine knew she had taken sanctuary at Balshall, and so peculiarly holy was that priory esteemed, that few native-born.

Englishmen would presume to violate its precincts. But among military adven- turers, who have so long traded in blood as to have entirely deadened the natural feejings of pity; and who, with the dis- tinction of home and country, have lost

5 ( 22 7 ) y

the feeling of religious awe and respect

for character, many outcasts of their na- tive climates were to be found, on whom the sentence of excommunication could produce no effect, having committed too

many secret murders to consider Christian

burial as a necessary requiem, or to at- tach any value to the remissive sacra- ments : men who desired no viaticum, who hoped for no heaven, who scoffed at the name of hell, who almost ceased to fear the wandering spirits of those they had privily inhumed, and to disbelieve the existence of inquisitorial fiends and per- secuting sorcerers. Men of this descrip- tion despised the sacred immunities of

Balshall, and were easily persuaded by

Gondibert to tear the shrieking Matilda from that sanctuary, to insult the help-, less nuns and their feeble dependants, to plunder the shrines and altars, and finally to invelope, with destructive flames, those

jl 6 ( 228 ) peaceful shades sacred to piety, contem- plation, and charity.

The Earl of Lancaster at the same time received intelligence of the King's repulse at Kenilworth, and the violation of Bal- shall priory, which deed of bold impiety

was falsely asserted to have been executed by royal command. If there was a man in England more particularly deserving pity, it was the enamoured, the distracted Guy de Beauchamp, meditating on the image of Matilda, perhaps the prey of

brutal appetite ; perhaps consumed by the remorseless flames in that pile where she vainly sought protection. He lacerated his arm with his own sword, tasted the blood, and, kneeling, swore nothing but

the death of Gaveston should satiate his

thirst for vengeance. He then sprang on his steed, ordered out his horsemen, and

hastened to fulfil his vow. In the mean-time the exemplary Walter ;

C 229 ) de Stapleton, Bishop of Exeter, who never quitted his King when in distress, nor misled him in his prosperity, arrived at Pembroke's camp, to intercede for the life of Gaveston, and know on what terms the peace of the kingdom might be restored. The Earl answered, that his plighted word prevented all apprehensions on the first account. The King might rest satisfied that his favourite was safe in the custody of an honourable baron, who would defend his life with his own,

till he could be brought to a public trial.

Among the spoils found at Scarborough were the royal regalia and crown-jewels and by having these in his possession, Gaveston committed a crime for which

perpetual imprisonment must be the slight-

est punishment. The good Bishop did

not dissent from this conclusion, nor re-

gret the consequence : he agreed with Pembroke, that the King should repair

to his palace at Wallingford, whither ( 230 )

Gaveston should be conducted, and al-

lowed that final interview, which was one of the conditions of his surrender. Here too the barons should also assemble, and after Gaveston had been tried by his peers, concert measures for the restora-

tion of tranquillity. With these promises the Bishop returned to the King.

Previous to the exasperating intelli- gence which Lancaster had lately received, he and the associated lords who were with him, loudly expressed their disapproba- tion of the terms granted to Gaveston, especially to the indulgence of again ad- mitting him into the royal presence.

What end could it answer ? Was it to confirm his influence, or to heighten the regret of that eternal separation which was essential to the preservation of the tottering throne ? Had not the most so- lemn obligations often proved nugatory ?

Was banishment of any avail ? Did ho- nour, conscience, peace,, security, fame, C *3* ) influence the versatile monarch? Seas were fordable, absolution was easily pro- cured from Rome, and the King of Eng- land stood released from all obligations to his people, with the Gascon at his side, who, like a foul sorcerer, could post from any quarter of the globe, break every

:, surmount every barrier ; and when he was supposed to be in durance at the bottom of the Red Sea, flash like a por- tentous meteor on their blasted sight.

Each chief asked his compatriot if there were no means of fixing this active spirit, and the same answer was given by all, that there was a dungeon, and its keeper was called Death. But the Earl of Pem- broke was too powerful as a confederate, and had gained too much glory in ter- minating the war by seizing its object, to be offended with impunity. Though from his avaricious temper it was feared he would turn the prize he possessed to his private advantage, yet, since he insisted !

( 232 )

on being allowed to fulfil the conditions he had made, they must rely on his word

to produce his prisoner for trial, whenever he was so required. But the flagitious outrage at Balshall, which (with the

pitiable responsibility of sovereign power compelled to answer personally for the

misuse of its authority) was referred to the King, irritated even the Earl of Lan- caster to the most intemperate rage, and the universal cry was Vengeance

On the" first intimation of the King's erecting his standard in Warwickshire, a detachment was sent under the Earl of

Hereford to pursue his steps, and frustrate his views. He was soon followed by the General, and the rest of the army, who now received intelligence that the Earl of

Pembroke had already conducted his prisoner to the bounds of Oxfordshire to meet the King. The impetuous War- wick demanded that the task of reclaim-

ing Gaveston should be his. . The only ( *33 ) attendance he required was a band of light armed troopers ; for Pembroke, relying on the honour of his associates, and knowing that the King had no means to attempt a rescue, travelled with a slight guard. He had proceeded as far as Ded- dington, where, leaving Gaveston to the charge of his servants, he went to visit his lady, who resided in the neighbour- hood : but hardly had he quitted his post when the furious Beauchamp darted like an eagle on his prey, and hewing down all opposition with his broad-sword, seized the now suppliant but formerly arrogant intruder, bound him on a horse, A and, with every mark of vengeance and derision, carried him to his own castle, from whence, after the mockery of a summary trial, he was speedily removed to suffer death on Blacklow-hill, amid the acclamations of rejoicing thousands,

without one friend to pity his distress, or

hear his parting words, and scarce allowed ( 234 ) the decency of a priest to shrive and pre- pare his agitated soul for its fearful and unexpected summons. This murder was sanctioned by the presence of the Earl of Lancaster, who interfered no further than that the sen- tence should be mercifully executed.

* tf A mad act, violating a capitulation, trampling upon the laws of the land, and the respect at all times due, from subjects to sovereigns, and the more to be con- demned as being committed by those who were associated to preserve the lives and # liberties of their fellow-creatures. " To this reflection of the dispassionate histo- rian, others have added the record of an act singularly visited by retributive justice, in the long series of calamities which fell on those whose authority might have pre- vented the bloody deed. Thus at last was sacrificed, illegally and rashly, a man whose whole life presented a tissue of injustice and presumption, who never made nor * Rapim ( -35 )

ved a friend, and yet, by the manner or his death, brought odium and misfortune

on those who, till then, ranked highest in

the admiration of their country ; and even

when, in his grave, he seemed to possess

a fatal power of disturbing the repose of

the realm, and. fomenting that bitter feud between the King and the barons which his folly and ambition had enkindled.

Shall we pause a moment, to warn the possessor of convivial talents from daring to undertake the management of empires; or shall we moralize on the hard terms by which royalty purchases faithful subjects and able servants, namely, an interdiction

of indulging the preference which arises

from correspondent tastes and reciprocal

inclinations ; all the partiality of spon-

too, all taneous atfection ; perhaps, the exclusive confidence and solacing immu-

nities of friendship ? Comparing the lot

of the subject, rich in his domestic and social ties, and happy in the liberty of ( *3<> ) choice, with the victim or the slave of royalty, the King who must not love and the dependent to whom favour is danger, should not those who tread " the cool sequestered vale of life," look with pity and indulgence on the insulated inhabi- tants of its lofty eminences, who have neither shade from the sun nor shelter from the storm ? Though the strong, deep feelings of the genuine Englishman may be wrought upon to do a deed of desperation in a

moment of frenzy, deliberate cruelty is incongruous with the national character. The blood of Gaveston flowed on the

scaffold, and the feelings of animosity

were instantly extinguished : the lifeless

head rolled in the dust, and those who loudest arraigned the supposed sorcery of

his mother, and his rapacity and ambi-

tion, were silent, like his own presump- tuous boastings and offensive insolence. The severest charges now brought against :

( m ) him were those of rashness and vanity it was admitted that he was young, hand- some, accomplished, witty and brave. Many, with a sigh, hoped that they should now see happier times. The Earl of

Lancaster prayed God to rest his soul : Hereford, in a faultering voice, added.

Amen. Warwick, alone, continued in-

exorable ; but he was thinking of Ma- tilda, of whose fate, while he pursued

Gaveston, he could learn no tidings.

From the scaffold of the victim to his misdirected rage, he hastened to the still smoaking ruins of Balshall, to shed, on the spot where he believed the beloved of his heart had terminated her life, or com- menced her miseries, those tears which the miserable end of Gaveston seemed to require, but which none but Matilda's sorrow should receive. While Lancaster was reflecting on the fearful consequences of this deed to his own safety, his reputation, and the re- C 238 )

pose of England, he was summoned to attend the death-bed of his mother. He

resigned his command to the Earl of Hereford, who undertook to pacify Pem- broke, and assemble the barons at Wal*

lingford. It was necessary they should

there meet in military array, as they did not dare to trust implicitly to the safe conduct previously promised by their now exasperated King, whose cause would, probably, be reinforced by the secession of those nobles who disapproved the execu-

tion of his favourite. With a heart sorely- foreboding future miseries, and pained by the novel and insupportable feeling of self-reproach, the Earl of Lancaster pro-

ceeded to his own castle. The situation

of his young bride rendering it improper

for her to be exposed to the horrors of the expected siege, Queen Blanche had sent her, with a strong escort, to her

own demesne of Canford, as soon as it was rumoured that the King meant t© ( 239 ) attack Kenil worth. The intercourse be- tween these noble ladies had been too short to excite imitation, or create affec- tion. Blanche saw that her daughter-in- law was gay and beautiful, accustomed to ease, admiration, and indulgence ; and

Alicia beheld in the aged Queen a form withering in the grasp of sickness, yet preserving a complacent dignity, that re-

quired her to believe the filial reverence

of her son was a tribute justly due to pre- eminent desert. But unhappiiy she had

been too little accustomed to hear the harp

of eulogy tuned to the praise of any beside herself, to render the consciousness of superiority grateful. While she seemed

to listen to the reported munificence and self-denial of the royal dowager, her pro- mised adoption of the virtues of Blanche

and Eleanora changed to projects for giv- ing eclat to the coronet of Lancaster, by means which these illustrious friends had

never pursued. This she purposed to do ( 240 )

as soon as peaceable times allowed her to wear the coronet in unveiled splendor. For the return of those times she felt a feverish impatience, considerably aug- mented by her strong affection for Her

lord. But while she prided herself on

his popularity, and anticipated an increase

of happiness from his triumphs 5 she girl- ishly grieved that they could not be ob- tained without the distasteful concomitants

of danger and difficulty, those heaven- appointed harbingers of glory. As in the court of Queen Isabella she desired to

revel in pleasure without feeling satiety, and to attract admiration without exciting envy, now, as the wife of a princely captain, she required that her hero should walk to fame through a flowery path, beside the still waters of comfort.

Disappointed in either view, she peevishly

complained that she had fallen on evil times, or to speak more truly, that she was invested with that nature whose out- 3 ( M« ) ward condition may be called a patch- work of cloth of frieze and cloth of gold. The occasional convictions produced by her lord's counsels were prevented from ripening into an improving sense of self- humiliation and gratitude for undeserved favours, by the flatteries of her attendants, and the pliability of her confessor. She was daily told> that since her marriage her husband had been too often called from her to form a due estimate of her worth, or he would never have proposed his an- tiquated mother for her example, or in- creased her too keen sensibility for omit- ting some duties, by one reproachful look. He intimated, that amiable ten* derness was want of fortitude ; but some lords, when their gentle ladies implored permission to follow them to the wars, granted the request of love, and by mak- ing their preservation the meed of valour, and the reward of enterprize, allowed them to gain glory without incurring

VOL. II. M ( *4«- } danger. Thus acted the twelve peers of

France, who always laid the heads of the giants they cut off at the feet of the fair damsels who rode about with theni in search of adventures, filling Christendom with the fame of their beauty, and the deeds of their paladins. But the Earl of Lancaster had, for a knight, a strange aversion to camps and courts. He had cropped a bud from the stem of the world's much-celebrated rose ; and he wished it to wither in a solitary castle, or to mildew in a conventual cell, as if any heart could be found sufficiently depraved to violate its freshness. Thus daily schooled, Alicia found the task of mode- rating her desires, and searching out her faults, difficult and disgusting, and the imitation of the sister-queens was a work of supererogation to one who was already perfect. These thoughts gathered strength when, after the bloodless dispersion of the King's forces, and her own distance ( ^43 )

From danger, she had leisure in her castle of Canford, in the absence of real evils, to conjure up numberless imaginary wants; and like all those conjugal reve- ries which do not start from a modest opinion of our own deserving, and a candid indulgence for the infirmities of our partners, her investigation terminated in a suspicion that her princely lord had too much of the austerity of the monk, and too little of the gallantry of the knight in his composition. Thus the susceptible heart and inventive fancy of woman often converts leisure and solitude into the bane of its repose, by magnify- ing trivial difficulties and creating ima- ginary evils, while active man is enabled to drive from his remembrance the deep- est sorrows, by being compelled to be a busy actor instead of a silent mourner. The mind of the Queen of Navarre

was of a masculine character : the de- fence of her castle seemed to suspend M 2 ( 244 )

the sense of pain ; and the honour of in- timidating her enemies without shedding

their blood, almost banished from her thoughts the certainty of her approach-

ing death. The heart which is least dis-

posed to self-pity, has the more space and

leisure for universal benevolence, or the

peculiarities of endeared affection. When exhausted nature sunk under the pressure of disease, it was only her apprehensions for Matilda, and her anxiety for her sons, that disturbed the serene fortitude which, during a long life, marked the illustrious mother of Lancaster. It was known that Gondibert Fitz-allan led the band of de- predators to Balshall ; and the lovely orphan was reported to have been seen in his possession after the destruction of the monastery. Queen Blanche instantly issued orders to her troops to pursue the ravisher ; and sent a pursuivant to the

Earl of Arundel, threatening him that she would lay waste his lands if he did ( *45 ) not instantly restore her ward. Feeling death approach, she sent for her son, to charge him to add the seizure of Matilda to those wrones his sword must redress; and to communicate a fear which the only unadvised action of his life had deeply imprinted on her heart. As the Earl of Lancaster obeyed the call of his revered parent, he was accost- ed, on his way to Kenil worth, by a gal- lant youth, in a helm and surcoat, who greeted him with a fraternal embrace, and claimed his cordial congratulations on his return to England. It was Henry Plantagenet, Earl of Leicester, who hear- ing that the barons of England had risen in military array, quitted the restorative

baths of Avignon ; and having received knighthood from his kinsman the King of France, came to England to share the dangers and glories of his brother. He

was also hastening to implore the blessing

of his dying mother ; yet though filial

m 3 ( 2 46 )

piety urged him to confine his thoughts

to that solemn meeting, the events of the preceding day directed them to a topic on which it was ecstacy to expatiate.

This was the rescue of Matilda, the first achievement of his newly-received knight- hood, and the blood of Gondibert flesh'd his maiden sword, The tale was long, if circumstantially related, but the occa- sion which called them to spur their steeds to Kenilworth confined Leicester to a brief account ; in which he rather dwelt on the deserts and distress of Ma- tilda, and the sacrilege and baseness of

Gondibert, than on the gallantry of at* tacking a force treble their numbers ; or the adroitness with which himself and his armed servitors charged the ravishers, and rescued the lady whom they were bearing to Wallingford to extort from the King his mandate for marriage, which was then esteemed a justification of all prior violence, and would have authorized ( 247 )

Gondibert to take possession of her lands. The frank-hearted Leicester, elated by success, ingenuously avowed, that he was

not a disinterested champion ; but Lan- caster's thoughts were too painfully occu- pied to attend to love-tales ; and Matilda's looks testified that she scarcely enjoyed her recovered freedom. She said her tears flowed for her most kind guardian, for the danger of her venerable maternal

friend ; but her eyes asked, Why was not

Warwick her deliverer ? Why did her plighted champion leave her to be rescued by another ? Was he indeed not only a recreant knight, but a perjured lover, whose passion died with the difficulties it had subdued ?

But the party were now at the gates of Keniiworth. The improved health and return of Leicester, added to the rescue of Matilda, composed the anguish of the dying Queen, who raised herself in her bed to bestow the benediction, which was m 4 ( *48 ) then deemed peculiarly efficacious, and almost prophetical. That duty performed, she dismissed all but Lancaster, whom she retained to receive her last instruc- tions. In part they related to Matilda, adjuring him, by all the honourable mo- tives which first prompted her sponta- neous protection of orphan-innocence, to maintain the freedom of her nuptial choice, even in defiance of the solicita- tions of fraternal affection ; yet still to deal tenderly with his enamoured brother, remembering that there is an age, when the unripe judgment dares not attempt to lead the heart out of the labyrinth of

!ove. " Thomas of Lancaster," continued the Queen, laying her cold hand on her son's, " trust not Edward of Carnarvon;

I will not die reproving the illustrious first-born Heaven gave to my prayers; but on Blacklow-hill stands a mound, which royal forgiveness will never over- ( 249 )

leap. A king's revenge will not be glutted by the sacrifice of mean instru- ments, for the lion will not prey on carcases. Either law must be further violated, and a curb invented strong enough to bind majesty, or the knell of

Gaveston will be echoed in a death-peal from the turrete of Kenilworth. Many a brave heart shall quail, and many a noble head lie low, ere the base mind, daily accustomed to palter with justice, shall forget the sudden irritation of mis- taking virtue, and say to revenge, " stay thy ravages."

m S C 250 )

CHAP. XIX.

I pr'ythee, loving wife Gire even way unto my rough affairs. Put not you on the visage of the times, Shakespeare.

A FTER the funeral of his mother, the Earl of Lancaster proceeded to Can- ford-castle, to recommend Matilda to the friendship of Alicia; and to find that solace in his wife's society which his griefs, his apprehensions, his cares, and his self-reproaches required. She had promised that she would commune with her own heart, and govern her conduct by the most approved models. Even in a worldly point of view rigorous self- government is useful, since it sharpens and exercises those faculties, which lie ( *5« ) dormant during a state of indulgence and uninterrupted prosperity. He remem- bered that in every difficulty which dis- turbed his father's repose, the high- minded princess, over whose grave the requiem of peace had just been sung, proved at once a comfort and a coun- sellor ; and he well recollected the wis- dom and courage of her interference, when, joining two sister-queens, she me- diated between the crowns of France and England, and suspended the horrors of war. Perhaps he also might find his cares relieved, and his difficulties light-

ened by domestic participation ; at least in one instance he might depend on kind assistance from a female mind, more con- versant in the delicate management of the tender passions, than that sex who are daily called to witness the effect of impe- tuous desires. For that knowledge of Matilda's inclinations, which would enable

Jbim to fulfil his mother's will, he should m 6 ( *5 2 ) depend on his consort. But after Alicia's first transports at their re-union subsided, Lancaster found that she had too many cares and sorrows of her own to be a successful mitigator of his. She was on the eve of her first confinement, ca- pricious, fretful, and terrified. Unused to privations or sufferings, and led, by the errors of her early training, and the servility of her associates, to forget that, at the entrance and exit of life, nature's commoners must submit to the same law of equality, yet ashamed that the lady of the castle should appear to want that fortitude, which the wife of the meanest sesf practised, Alicia tried to refer her restlessness to some extraneous circum- stance. Latterly it was the absence of her lord, but since his return had not made her happy and tranquil, whence could her continued dissatisfaction arise ? Doubtless from perceiving that he was melancholy 3 perhaps also, as Beatrice in- 3 2 ( 53 ) sinuated, at his unreasonableness, in sup- posing that she could undertake the charge of a young heiress, and assist to dispose of her in marriage, while every one's thoughts ought to be occupied on her own situation, which should almost (as her ladies hinted) suspend public tran- sactions. Though Alicia's real affection for her lord made her reject, with some slight indication of displeasure, every compliment that was paid her at his ex- pence, yet the fretfulness which mis- directed sensibility and servile adulation necessarily engendered, was so unpleasant an inmate to an affectionate heart, that she was glad to divert her quarrel with herself, by finding something objection-

able in her husband, and ventured to

reprove him for being dispirited. Had

he not delivered England from a pest ? Was not the end for which he had taken up arms accomplished, and the King at cnce humbled and miserable? A sick ( 254 )

matron like her might, nay must, be mi- serable, but joy and triumph became a conqueror. "When the Eail of Lancaster relin- quished his expectation of finding in his consort a solace to his cares, he recol- lected his resolution to respect her sus- ceptibility, and knew it was not now the time to alarm her with fears for his safety. Yet while he buried in his bosom his mother's apprehensions and his own, he considered an avowal of the fault which he had committed at once requisite as a penance, and instructive as a lesson. He replied, that England, was indeed de- livered from a pest, and the object for which they had taken up arms accom- plished, yet could he not be called a con- queror, who, in a public, an important, and an atrocious act, had been the slave of his own passions ; at whose impulse he unworthily accomplished an end, which might have been attained by means alike ;

( *S5 ) holy with that end. While generalissimo of the barons of England, leagued to support liberty and confirm law, he had violated the sanctity of an oath ; broken a ratified convention ; and, by robbing justice of her forms, turned her sword into an assassin's dagger. Thus had he added to the horrors of the times, by abating the confidence man places in man, defrauding peace of its security, and war of the alleviations which honour, affords. He could not say he had shed

innocent blood ; but, substituting blind vengeance for impartial rectitude, he had sacrificed a villain for a crime of which he was necessarily innocent. To the world he must still preserve an imposing aspect, but to his faithful partner he would own, that by doing an action un- worthy a Christian knight, his banner was riven on the grave of Gaveston

who, though abhorred in his life, must

be pitied in his end. As to humbling C 256 ) the King, or seeking to make him miser- able, it was what a faithful subject must ardently deprecate. His dearest wish was to be restored to his friendship, and to spend his life in his service. These were his sorrows ; and he left it to her to judge how far a sick matron's cares and fears preponderated against them.

While Lancaster indulged these self- reproachful meditations, the confederated barons, who were less implicated in the death of Gaveston, or less disposed to scrutinize the means by which he had been cut off, resolved to avail themselves of the advantages obtained over the King, and marched to London, determined to demand a renewal of the terms formerly granted at Wallingford, which assigned the government of the kingdom to a council of their appointment. The Earl of Gloucester, and the Bishop of Exeter, again assumed the character of mediators; and though the claims on either side ( =57 ) looked irreconcilable, there was a mutual consciousness of weakness which for- warded the labours of the pacificators.

The barons knew, that to have appeared in open insurrection is a less favourable situation than merely to menace resist- ance ; in the latter case the desire to pre- vent extremities, and the magnifying ap- prehensions of an untried strength, may in- duce a prince to conciliate ; in the former, offended royalty remembers those as enemies who have done their worst, and may demand conditions as an equivalent for that pardon, on which they must de- pend for a restitution of the lands for- feited by rebellion. On these accounts it was finally arranged, that the royal pre- rogative should have ampler limits than the convention at Wallingford permitted. The ordainers were changed to a council, whose advice would be less imperative than commands, reserving to the King the liberty of refusing to sanction their ( *S$ )

Measures, though he was stiH restrained from acting without their coincidence. The barons on their part agreed, to re-

store the spoils they had taken with

Gaveston as part of the royal treasures, publicly to implore pardon on their knees in Westminster-hall, in submissive terms,

and to receive it as an act of pure mercy and favour.

It seemed as if the nobles had now dis- covered that, when royalty is brought into contempt, the nation partakes in the degradation of the sovereign. In the present agreement much attention was paid to the dignity of his person and office, and an attempt was made to influ- ence his weakness by the way of adroit management, avoiding all appearance of rude coercion. It was seen that the King could not exist without a confidential friend, or rather a favourite companion, whose wit would supply amusement, and pleasantly divert those regrets which it ( 259 ) would now be dangerous for him to in- dulge. A young nobleman was selected for this office, namely, Hugh Spenser, son to a venerable and patriotic baron, in whom the most agreeable qualities were united to a strong understanding and ho- nourable principles. He was introduced to the King as his chamberlain ; and being thus fixed about his person, was directed by his party to use the influence he was expected to acquire, in keeping

Edward a passive instrument in the hands of his council. Their first measure after a general amnesty would be the vigorous prosecution of the Scottish war. Such was the plan ; but cherished by royal favour, the undiscovered seeds of ambi- tion redolently expanded in the mind of this selected and entrusted guardian of aristocratical pre-eminence, the fruits of which were treachery to his friends, and destruction to himself. ( 26o )

Though Edward was incapable pf a steady course of action, his heart was

adapted to form lasting attachments. His love for the friend and companion of his

youth was indelible ; and the manner of

his being cut off sunk so deep into his memory, as to change his open, placable disposition, into a deep, insatiable, but

concealed, thirst for revenge, on those who had deprived him of his treasure, especially on the Earls of Lancaster and Warwick, who instigated and sanctioned the execution. As he abstained from all public signs of sorrow, the well-wishers to England augured favourably, from the composure with which their sovereign appeared to endure the personal insult he had sustained in his favourite's death; and when they saw him willingly agree to the terms the Earl of Gloucester had procured, and gracefully pardon the sup- pliant barons, they trusted a happier era had commenced. " The spell," said ( *6l )

they, " is broken ; the King's mind has recovered its freedom ; we shall again be an united, powerful, martial nation." Still, however, the publication of the amnesty was delayed, under frivolous pretences ; and though passports were refused to the Earls of Lancaster and Warwick, the King complained, with affected astonish- ment, of the distrust of those noblemen, in refusing to attend his court and parlia- ment. Whom did they suspect ? What cause had they for fear ? Why then keep up the array of their vassals, and fortify their castles ? The manner of the King, as he made these complaints, induced the friends of these barons to advise them to remain aloof, till his disposition to- wards them could be more accurately dis- covered.

It was not wholly from a conviction that they must be peculiarly obnoxious to their prince, that Lancaster and his ( 262 )

friend Warwick withdrew from public

affairs, The rash deed they had com- mitted, fostered a host of enemies. The Earl of Gloucester, whose moderation

and popularity expedited the pacification,

could not, while his brother-in-law lay

" yet green in death," act publickly

with those who had cut him off; and he

was now required to consider his sister as the widowed Countess of Cornwall, not

as the neglected wife of an unworthy hus- band. Pembroke, too, though with a right English feeling he said he would not bring the account of his own wrong to increase the sum of public distraction, sullenly brooded over the injuries his honour had received, and declared, when he next forfeited his lands by rebellion, that it should be with confederates who would allow him to fulfil the capitulations he granted. To court myrmidons, the spirit of a Beau champ, and the integrity C 263 ) of a Lancaster were peculiarly obnoxious* The Queen's party disliked every man of abilities, who threatened to interfere with their design of governing the king- dom by her influence ; and there are grounds to apprehend that the passion of Mortimer, which afterwards ripened into the bitter fruits of treason, adultery, and murder, had already so far departed from the pure gallantry which chivalry not

only sanctioned, but required, as to in-

duce him to look, with personal dislike, on the Earl of Lancaster, whom Isabella sometimes honoured with the highest

encomiums, and at others, petulantly

complained that the wayward girl, whom she once esteemed her friend, had made him not only an ungallant monitor but

her inflexible enemy. To Mortimer,

therefore, Lancaster's return to London

was portentous ; and the Queen, more

mortified at the ill success of her blan-

dishments than grateful for his services »3 —

( 264 )

or valuing his fidelity, seemed unwilling that the English court should contain two men whom she could not fashion to her

will; and (as is ever the case) even among those who, while they are osten-

sibly leagued together as the champions and assertors of freedom, thunder out invectives against ambition, treachery,

selfishness, and all that invidious base- ness and intriguing cabal which they describe as the rank growth of courts even there, though bound by solemn

engagements to stand or fall with his fortunes, jealous of the preponderance of the general whom they had chosen, or desirous of exonerating themselves from blame,—were those who asked what had the great Earl of Lancaster and his bosom

friends effected ? Did Plantagenet, Bohun, and Beauchamp unfurl their standards to

crush an unresisting, though detestable foe, by a deed as detestable ? When he had provoked the King beyond forgiveness, ( «6S ) should he not have followed up the blow, and by another decisive act prevented his colleagues from being compelled to sue for mercy, and considered as pardoned rebels by their ill-appeased prince ? Thus every party in the state appeared to unite in driving from its councils the only man, who, by his power and integrity, could consolidate the energies, and revive the spirit of a divided and degraded nation. But though such were the feelings of the courtiers, the populace, who had been taught to ascribe all their miseries to the King's favourite, with whom ac- cusation is proof, and who are too impetuous and unreflecting to consider that the way by which their supposed enemy was removed, implicated the safety of every man in England, and being also dazzled by the reported muni- ficence and sanctity of Lancaster, turned

their previous admiration into idolatry.

The first question which was put to tra-

VOL. II. N ( 266 ) . veiling minstrels at wakes and bridals, was, " Have you any new ditty about the good Earl Thomas of Lancaster, who expends the revenues of five earldoms upon the church and the poor ?" " Would to heaven," another artizan " would observe, he were our King \ then labour might sleep over his leathern bottle, and care sing under the vil- lage oak, during the longest summer's day !"

" Heaven," said a third, " hath al- ready blessed him with such measureless content, that I question whether a crown would make him happier. He is rich enough to feed on pearls and diamonds, and what he wills the King dare not gainsay. His fair wife has just brought him a hopeful son, and he has nothing now to ask of his patron saint, but health and length of days to enjoy his mar- vellously happy fortunes."

When the splendid pall is removed, with 4 !

C 267 ) which those who are prudent as well as prosperous envelope the ghastly spectre which silently paces by the side of tem- poral greatness, envy and admiration must alike start surprized at beholding the object of their malignity, or the theme of their adulation, such a being as themselves, alternately goaded by care, and depressed by disappointments Though the Earl of Lancaster, like many wise men, had mistaken the at- tractions of beauty for moral perfection, he knew his own temper, when he said that he was not suited to humour the caprices, or correct the petulance of his wedded partner. Conscious of his own quick sensibility and jealous honour, he en- deavoured to divert his attention from what he could not but condemn, espe- cially while his own regrets and cares were so numerous, and her state required peculiar tenderness. And when he afterwards saw his child recline upon her n 2 ( m )

bosom, he gazed on the infant's charms, and invented palliatives for the mother's

failings. The burst of sensibility and joy

which overwhelmed her, when he first

blessed the gift she had bestowed, and

prayed for it's life and for her's, assured

him that it was not from an incapacity of feeling that Alicia so often forgot the

duties which she owed to others. He

saw she doated on the infant ; surely the maternal character would, in time, en-

large her social virtues. Blanche of Navarre had often said that her love to her family made her pious, just, and benevolent. The bright model which he wished his wife to copy was removed, by death, to her native region, and the turbulent times would often separate him from his domestic superintendence, as well as his domestic comforts ; but would not their young Edmund be the conservator of his mother's virtues, and the corrector of her failings? With ( *6 9 )

talents of the first order, much intrinsic

worth, and the liveliest susceptibility of what was excellent, would she not aspire to minister to the rational as well as the animal wants of the high-born infant, to render him the meet representative of his princely ancestors ? and could the pre- cepts of true nobility be inculcated, and the example be withheld ? Could a woman of acute feeling and strong dis- crimination, allow herself to be wayward, or indulge in unseemly levity, while an intelligent child witnessed those actions, which, if he copied, would plant eternal scorpions in her own heart ? Consumed by fears and regrets which he could neither subdue nor dismiss, the Earl of Lancaster endeavoured to hope, that some happy contingency would event- ually remove tl e minute but piercing thorns that were concealed in his nuptial chaplet, without his tearing them out

.* 3 !

( 270 ) with what he, from his self-knowledge, foreboded would be a destructive hand We must now explain the nature of those fears and regrets which disturbed the saint, and unmanned the hero. The Earl of Lancaster was alike virtuous and enlightened ; but we must only seek in him the intelligence and virtue of the century in which he flourished. Be- trayed by a sudden start of passion, he had dipped his hands in blood ! The guilt, though not the danger annexed to murder, lay upon him, and that guilt he naust expiate. His friends had fore- warned him to beware of the King's vengeance; from that he could secure himself by abiding in his own castles, where the array of his vassals would repel violence, while their fidelity would secure him from those insidious attacks to which revenge too often resorted. But where was the preservative which would make the thunders of the church ( •?« ) fall harmless, should its anathemas

be pointed at him by a pontiff fatten- ing on the spoils that an imbecile King

permitted him to reap from England ? At a period when the nation had been

trained to throw off the papal yoke,

Edward of Caernarvon allowed the fet-

ters his father's wisdom had gradually

loosed to be again rivetted. The statute of mortmain was infringed ; investitures to bishopricks came from Avignon, where the Pope then resided ; and when- ever the King wished to falsify his oaths to his subjects, absolutions and indul- gences travelled by the same courier that brought claims for Peter's-pence and first-fruits. As foremost of that distinguished band of nobles who, in

the late reign, asserted the independence of the Anglican church, Lancaster was

peculiarly obnoxious to the Pope ; for the devotion and munificence of the man

could not atone for the inflexibility of N 4 ( 272 ) the patriot. The King and the pontiff had mutually bandied the ball of acqui- escence j the former agreed, that some indolent foreign priests should be in- stalled in a rich English benefice, and the latter permitted the Bishop of Lich- field, a royal favourite and his nuncio, to excommunicate the Earls of Lancaster and Warwick, for conspiring the death of the Earl of Cornwall. To the firmest minds and bravest hearts, and even to those also who, by

practical infidelity, seemed to be exone- rated from all spiritual terrors, the anathema of the church was, at this period, most tremendous : it dissolved

all civil and social ties, and excluded its

victim, not only from the least sacred

offices of church-communion, but also

from the comforts of domestic life. The

nearest and strongest ties of love and

affinity were broken, and the interdicted

wretch was doomed to exist on the same ( *73 ) terms as an out-law, who had been cut off by a civil process from all inter- course with his fellow-creatures. Such were the consequences of this dreadful sentence ; and though the bold spirit of independence, which they felt as peers and Englishmen, induced the Earls to despise the fulminations of the Bishop of Rome, and to deny his authority as universal pontiff, yet, when on applying to their respective confessors, with consciences laden with sad misgivings, arising from a sense that the weight of blood lay on their souls, their ghostly father shrunk from their request, refused to listen to their confession, and withheld the remis- sive sacraments, they also trembled.

The Roman hierarchy, like the military tenures of the ages in which its prepon- derance was acquired, was one firm com- pacted system, extending from the lowly village pastor and ignorant monk, through every rank of secular and regu-

n 5 ( 274 ) lar clergy, till it terminated in the pre- sumptuous priest who claimed to be the vicegerent and representative of the Deity, and whose mandate, o£ course, claimed implicit obedience from all the clergy in Christendom ; they depending on him not only for their future advance- ment, but for permission to exercise their sacerdotal functions. The Earl of Lancaster, alike serious and devout, deeply imbued with a sense of the shortness of life, and of the im- portance of religious rites, shuddered at the possibility of being summoned to the bar of his Maker, while he was at enmity with the visible church. Banishment from its courts was to him the most dolo- rous exile. He had willingly relinquish- ed the splendour and amusements com- mon to his station, and even when imperatively compelled by his exalted birth to sanction a festive scene by his presence, the sackcloth which he wore ( *7S )

under his robes of state continually re-

minded his unsubjugated heart of his vowed renunciation of wealth, power,

and voluptuousness. In the latter he had sworn never to indulge, and only to employ the two former for the benefit of others. His desire to promote the

welfare and secure the liberties of Eng- land, was his only motive for wishing to

mingle in the busy haunts of active life.

His return to the senate or the council, had been rendered not only personally unsafe but inefficacious by that bloody precipitation which had offended and

divided his associates, and converted the sovereign, whom he might have in-

fluenced, into an implacable enemy. But these comfortless reflections were all absorbed in the super-eminent horrors of the imposed malediction. Neither peer nor legislator could act

in concert with an excommunicated person. To him no social worship, no n 6 !

( *7<5 )

religious consolation could be afforded.

Nor fortified bulwarks, nor the right to stlmmon a third of the kingdom to fol- low his banner, were now of any avail Not even the peculiar resources of his

birth, his character, or his moral quali-

ties, could render the great Earl of Lan-

caster invincible to the terrors of a punishment which loosened his wife from her connubial bond, and his vassals from their conditions of servitude, de- posed him from that empire over the

multitude which the sanctity of his charac-

ter had acquired, estranged him from the protection of the law, and, in the event of his obduracy, licensed the dagger of the assassin, or the cup of the poi- soner, by directing them to a victim whose death would not be questioned by a legal process. Yet further, this sen- tence, in case of his demise, consigned his soul " unhousell'd, unannointed, ( 277 )

unaneal'd," not only to the penal fires of purgatory, but to those hopeless

realms of ever-during torment, in which, according to the creed of those times, obstinate resisters of the authority of holy church, must sustain pre-eminence in misery. Such then was the situation of the Earls

of Lancaster and Warwick ; and never had the thunders of popery been launched

against two more high-minded and yet

susceptible offenders ; for while piety and patriotism awoke the fears and deepened

the regrets of Lancaster, Warwick felt the misery of love suspended, at the mo-

ment when it seemed to attain fruition. His happiness had been confirmed by the conduct of Henry Plantagenet, who, alike generous and brave, as soon as he learned the state of Matilda's affections, refused to advance any plea on the score of his own services or his mother's protection, but nobly imposed an eternal silence on C 278 ) his long-cherished passion. He went yet further, and requested his brother im- mediately to acquit himself of the trust devolved upon him, by bestowing his lovely ward on the faithful knight who possessed her heart. Lancaster doubted the sincerity of a proposal which contra- dicted the account he had heard of his long-cherished attachment ; and when he cast a scrutinizing glance on his brother, as if he questioned his power of exerting the fortitude he professed, young Lei- cester bravely answered, " Fear me not, I too am a Lancastrian, and claim a share in that royal blood which runs in your veins. By the soul of my mother ! I will not waste that health and strength, for which I believe my- self indebted to her merits and prayers, in pining for a fair maiden who has pre- ferred a pavilion to an hospital, a bloom- ing courtier to a wasted invalid. I have long been chained to the bed of infirmity, ( 279 )

a burthen on my fellow-creatures, whose services I am now called upon to

repay with usury. I will begin my career with an energy which shall supply un-

avoidable lapses. The world has various novelties to engage my attention, business

to occupy my industry, and rewards to

stimulate my ambition.. I am called by

my birth to act a conspicuous par,t on a vast theatre, before an innumerable audi-

tory ; and if England never shews me a lady so fair and good as the sweet play-

mate of my infancy, I will make no' wo- man wretched by my preference for Beau- champ's wife, but will adopt one of your children as my own son, and train him to

inherit my earldoms. And if age itself cannot scare from my mind the image of

Matilda, when I find I can serve the

world no longer, I will become a hermit beadsman, and pray for her and her

posterity.'' The only impediment having been thus ( a8o. )

removed, Lancaster had consented to be-

stow his adopted sister on his friend. Nor did Matilda affect those doubts and coy- nesses to which her heart was a stranger.

Rejoicing in the prospect of exchanging alarm and dependence for the full secu- rity, the serene content, and the mild au-

thority, which is the noble matron's por- tion when happily united to a worthy and beloved lord, she modestly acceded to the suit of Beauchamp, granted an early day, and joyfully prepared to lay aside the simplicity of her maid's attire, to as- sume the more splendid, but decorous garb, which was then the appropriated costume of wedded beauty.

Ease and luxury had not at this time proclaimed an universal gala, even in the mansions of opulence. The great festi- vals of the church, and the peculiar cere- monials of religion, were observed as seasons of convivial hilarity, relaxing the toil of labourers and artizans, by summon- 3 ( 38 1 ) iflg them and their families to the man- sion of their feudal lord, where the lady of the castle, laying aside her needle and her distaff, received her guests of every degree, smoothing the inequality of con- dition with a dignity which awed while it delighted, and forbade familiarity though it created attachment. Admitted not only to behold, but to partake of their lord's opulence, guests at his table and attend- ants on his sports, the meanest hind, by thus occasionally conversing with gallant knights and gentle dames, imbibed, with some portion of their courtesy, a reve- rent devotion to the chieftain of whose family he formed a part, and in whose

renown and splendor he personally parti-

cipated. During the period of the festi-

val all was mirth, good cheer, and relaxa-

tion ; that term expired, industry and economy resumed their duties. The cottagers returned to their brown crusts

and stock-fish, and the buttery-hatch was ;

closed at the castle ; while in each state of society the recollected delights of the last holiday, and the anticipated pleasures of the next, lightened each individual's re- spective cares and occupations, and be- stowed a relish on their more abstemious fare ; while the sacred origin and stated returns of these seasons of indulgence, endeared to the affections of all those holy anniversaries, which imprinted spi- ritual mercies on the minds -of men, by connecting them with temporal enjoy- ment. The double ceremony of Lady Matilda's marriage to Earl Guy of Warwick, and the baptism of the young heir of the house of Lancaster, were announced to take place on the feast of All-hallows and they were to be performed with all the magnificence and sumptuous regale which befitted the rank of the hospitable prince in whose stately mansion they were to be celebrated ; but ere the day arrived^ ( 8*3 ) the papal excommunication was publish- ed, and not a priest could be found suf- ficiently hardy to administer these sacred rites. The noble guests who were in- vited, knowing that the stability of their own possessions was endangered by dis- obedience, avoided the interdicted walls as they would a pest-house ; the vassals, divided between their affection for their lord and their dread of purgatory, alter- nately cursed the Pope, and sprinkled themselves with holy water, Matilda wept, Warwick raved, Lancaster retired to his oratory, to seek those consola- tions in solitary prayer which our en- lightened age believes the contrite heart will surely enjoy, and to implore for his infant son that spiritual regeneration and mystical unction, of which the "outward symbol was withheld by priestly tyranny ; yet feeling, in its full force, the divine malediction originally pronounced against the unlawful shedder of man's blood. ( 284 )

even his virtues and his intelligence, though of a superior order, increased his

solicitude to be re-united to that church, which, while he disowned its temporal domination, he believed possessed the ad- missive and exclusive keys to the kingdom of heaven. ( *8 5 )

CHAP. XX.

The giant, triple-crown'd, -who long hadbow'd Beneath his yoke the rr.onarchs of the earth, Pretending power supreme from highest heav'n, But working the commands of lowest hell. Thomson.

TF the Countess of Lancaster could have afforded herself time to consider how keen must be the anguish of the separated lovers, or how awful the struggle be- tween contrition and patriotism, a just disdain of priestly presumption, and a religious regard for his immoital wel- fare, the situation of her lord and the affianced pair would have commanded her active sympathy, and banished her own disappointments from her mind. But she had been so habituated to regard every f event chiefly as it affected her own inte- j ( 286 )

^ rests, that self-indulgence had impercep- tibly rendered a kind heart callous, and a gentle temper arrogant. The papal ex-

communication so disconcerted all her

plans, and made her feel so very wretch-

ed, that she was astonished her kind lord, the affectionate Matilda, and the gallant Beauchamp, who knew her designs, and

how deeply her susceptible heart felt every

mortification, were not assembled in her

chamber, trying to console her ; especi-

ally as none of them seemed so deeply affected by hearing the sentence read as

herself. Her lord, indeed, looked as pale and solemn as a brave captain who, after having volunteered " to mount the immi-

nent deadly breach" at the impulse of ho-

nour, recollects, at the next moment, the

endeared ties of love and nature, and feels

his heart die at the remembrance ; but

he was silent and stood firm, while she

fainted and filled the air with her shrieks. She doubted not his nice sense of honour ;

( 25; ) would resent the indignity, and feel the prohibitions annexed to the situation of a proscribed person ; but then he actually disliked those enjoyments which habit had with her converted into necessaries. He could be happy alone : the hermit's maple dish and beechen bowl sufficed his wants attendance was to him a burden ; festi- vity was a blank or a penance, which tore him from his oratory or his study. She ") to could not, would not, ought not leave ] him, till he was again reconciled to the \

) church ; yet how could she support so-

litude and disgrace, without pleasant i amusements or lively associates ; with no \ other occupation than domestic manage- C ment, or that self-communion which ex-^ } perience proved to be deplorably irksome?/ The manner of her lord shewed that he ^ anticipated impending evil : what is fore- seen may be better supported j but evil had overtaken her just as she was going to be unusually happy, and it was there- ( 288 )

fore more poignantly felt. She had an-

/ ticipated a most joyous winter : the castles of Warwick, Canford, and Kenilworth were alternately to display festivals and tournaments. Gaveston was dead, and

the realm at peace ; surely the season of

laughter should not be forgotten, if that of weeping was remembered. Lancaster indeed had once told her, that the King's calm aspect might be a vizor, assumed to conceal cherished revenge. Said he this to damp her joyous spirits? Her tremulous sensibility needed not these alarms, for her mild and timid temper required constant encouragement. Her

confessor, the liberal, benevolent Sir Hilary, assured her, that a character of

exquisite feeling should be treated like a tender nursling; he never, therefore, alarmed her by angry denunciations, nor

imposed any troublesome penance ; but

instead of deepening the sense of her er- rors, he talked to her of her graces and ;

( 289 ) virtues. Beatrice was of the same opi- nion, and whispered what the commo- dious priest distantly hinted, that the Earl of Lancaster was too austere, cold, and misanthropic to be a meet companion for his Phoenix bride. The indulgence of her confessor, and the flatteries of her confidant, were corroborated by the pre- scriptions of her physician, who conjured her, for the sake of her infant son, to take a very reverent care of her health to divert her fancy by the pleasures of the chace, music, dancing, and feasting ; and by these means try to counteract, in the noble infant, the constitutional melan- choly he would derive from his father.

Alicia was very willing to be, in this in-

stance, all the mother ; and, with the as-

sistance of Sir Hilary, an interlude had been prepared, adapted to the approach-

ing festival, and replete with pleasant con-

ceits and rare devices. Herself and her household purposed to honour the cere-

VOL. II. o ( *9° ) mony, by becoming performers. The wars of the fairies and the giants formed the basis of the drama, and her dwarf and jester were to lead their respective bands of combatants. Analogy and consistency did not restrain the excursive flight of

Sir Hilary's muse ; for the young heir of Lancaster was described as a present sent to that noble house by the Queen of the

Fairies ; and yet the Countess, in the character of Faith, was to bring the child to baptism, A paynim knight, interrupt- ing the ceremony, was to call forth the chivalry of St. George ; who, after slay- ing the Saracen, would conclude the piece by his marriage with the Princess of Egypt. All the previous preparations were complete : Alicia had, with her own hand, spangled her sky-blue robe with silver stars, and had conned her introduc- tory speech, to announce her own cha- racter ; which, with scriptural precision, described the acts of her worthies. Such !

( 2QI ) a waste of ingenuity and labour was not to be endured ; and, added to the pros- pect of a winter's confinement, in a vast deserted castle, from which gaiety and grandeur would be banished, while her ears were alternately assailed by the pec- cavis of penitence, and the well-a-days of love, seemed an accumulation of mi- sery beyond the power of mortal strength to endure. The tender maid, whose meek repinings she anticipated ; and the sincere Christian, who would seek to ex- piate his fault by additional austerities, were, she thought, less pitiable than her- self; because they were gifted with that fortitude which nature had denied her,

Alas ! how frequently do inconsiderate- ness and indolence charge nature with their own faults The confessor, the confidant, and the physician, were alternately summoned to console, advise, and sustain the weeping, lamenting, fainting lady ; while the Earl

o % ( *9* )

lay prostrate before the holy rood, humbly acknowledging that offence to Heaven which his enemies had converted into a deadly snare. When the day dawned, he joined Warwick and Matilda, who

had spent the sad vigil of their expected bridals together, he in soothing her sor- row and dissipating her fears, she in calming his keen resentments and sub-

duing his irritability, till, for the sake of each other, -they mutually became com-

posed, and mildly descanted on their future prospects. With the impetuous enterprize natural to youth, Warwick proposed to Lancaster that each should

abide in his own castle, and, collecting his vassals, bid defiance to the Pope and the King, The names of Plantagenet

and Beauchamp were, he said, too dear

to their respective partizans, for their faith to be shaken by the fulminations of the pontiff, acting as the mean instrument of a prince who had thus contrived to C ^93 )

make his promised amnesty of no avail. But Lancaster had too deep a sense of the

fault he had committd to meditate fresh transgressions. He abjured the question- able right of appealing to the sword

against his King to revenge a private in- jury, and he denied that feudal lords could justly subject the consciences of their vassals to a dreadful competition be-

tween their spiritual and temporal duties.

He felt, he said, the horrors of excom-

munication too strongly to expose the

meanest of his hinds to the same ana- thema. The gasping head and convulsed

limbs of Gaveston haunted his slumbers,

and he resolved that the blood of a fel- low-subject should never more imbrue

his hands. It was necessary for his soul's

peace that he should be reconciled to the

King and the Church, and his first step would be to know if the proposed terms

were consistent with his honour. A signal from the warder interrupted

3 ( ^94 ) the conference^ and announced (what in their present state was an unexpected grace,) an ecclesiastical visitor. Walter Stapleton, Bishop of Exeter, trusting to his unblemished sanctity and uniform sub- mission to the holy see, feared not to enter the interdicted castle, and hold a conference with the excluded lords. From him they learned that two alterna- tives were proposed to their choice, as the propitiatory penance which, combined with submission, would procure recon- ciliation. They must either undertake a pilgrimage in honour of the Virgin, to her favourite residences of Loretto or Montserat, and serve a campaign against the infidels ; or submit to be publicly scourged by the monks of St. Thomas a Becket, the avengers of the crime of assassination, and found two chantries with daily masses to pray for the Earl of

Cornwall's soul. The Earl of Lancaster, though he at 2 ( 95 ) ooo* preferred the former alternative,

paused to consider the state of England..

The Scots hung upon the borders, col- lected in a numerous body, with the alarming menace of determined invaders. Profiting by the dissentions between Ed- ward and his barons, Bruce had sum- moned all his clans, and from Caithness to Tweedale nothing was heard but the sound of preparation, and the cry of re- venge. Threatened by such an enemy, could England spare one faithful chief- tain ? The Bishop, perceiving the Earl's resolution unfixed, added, that he would undertake to promise the correction of the monks should be formal rather than positive. It had been undergone by mighty potentates, and could not there- fore be esteemed disgraceful. Founding chantries was an act truly grateful to the pious, to whose devout feelings a speedy and peaceful re-admission to the templeand the altar must be most desirable. He be- o 4 ( 29 6 )

sought the Earls to consider their estate, supposing they were cut off by infidels be- fore their prescribed term of probation had expired, as they would then die in that doubtful condition which the age contem- plated with horror. The Earl of Lancaster fixed his eyes on the crucifix, with which the devout Earls of Salisbury had furnished every apartment in their castle, and answered, that it did not become a sinner to object, on the score of degradation, to a punishment which his great exemplar had endured. His body needed chastisement, and he would submit, with all his soul, to the lowest abasement, but not at the shrine of Becket, whose power to intercede for him in Heaven he doubted, nay denied. The successors of St. Peter held the keys of the blessed mansions, to admit mar- tyrs, confessors, and spotless virgins to the highest bliss, after they had gloriously triumphed over their spiritual enemiess ;

( 297 )

not to exalt to that bright pre-eminence

the traitor who betrayed his country's rights, or the rebel who insulted his King. He owned that he was the instrument who wrongfully took away Gaveston's

life, and was therefore bound to do all

in, his power to procure for him a remis-

sion of the penal fires fo which, without due preparation, he hurried his soul and he had already meditated the required endowment, which he would only post-

pone till he had registered his protest

that it was not done in compliance with papal authority, which claimed a right to

tax his temporal possessions. He was most willing to undertake a campaign against the enemies of the cross, and

would joyfully pay his devotions to the blessed Virgin, either before her miracu-

lous image at Montserat, or in that holy house which ministering angels had lately

removed from the profaned soil of Pales-

tine, and fixed in the patrimony of St.

° 5 ;

( 2 9 8 )

Peter. This he would do. and during

the period of his absence entrust his country to that Providence which had often wonderfully preserved it from me- nacing perils. Tlie solemn call now made upon him reminded him of the purpose of his early life, and the means by which his intended self-dedication was prevented.

He had persuaded himself that it was due deference to the advice of a revered friend he now feared his own unruly appetites had given resistless cogency to those ar- guments. He had not then tried the world, as he had since done, even to satiety. It then wore a delusive smile, a semblance of permanent good. Here recollecting the contrasted images of the real and the imaginary Alicia, he heaved a painful sigh, and was silent. " My personal services/' resumed he, after a long pause, " cannot now defend

England ; but I will deprive her of as few faithful sons as possible. Only my me- 6 C 299 ) nial servants shall attend me to Spain, and

1 will leave with the brave knight who is my chamberlain, full power to array all my vassals, and join the army of Eng- land, whenever the King determines to raise his standard, and take the field to claim from proud Bruce the fealty he paid his father."

Permission to remain in England, which included the prospect of a speedy union with Matilda, softened the stern tone of Warwick's indignant spirit, and tempted him to quit the side of Lancaster. Nor was prostration before the shrine of one whom he held to be a pseudo-martyr and arch rebel, nor even the scornful wavings of the scourge (that symbol of abject subjection) over his athletic form by an emaciated monk so irreconcilable to his pride, as the idea of leaving his un- protected Matilda in the disposal of a ver- satile king, easily influenced by rapacious courtiers, as that idea was agonizing to o 6 C 3 00 ) his tenderness. Had she but been' his wife, she could then have accompanied him into Spain, without taint to her maiden fame, or otherwise remained in

England, secure from all pretenders in the sanctity of the marriage vow. How did he now regret his passive acquiescence with the request of Lancaster's vain wife, that the ceremony might be deferred till she could have it celebrated in a style of

unrivalled grandeur ! If he left England, another Gondibert would appear, ask the hand of the wealthy orphan, and, either from imbecility or malice, the King would exclude the claims of the absent War- wick. Recalling all those horrid antici- pations which urged his temper to frenzy, as he viewed the smoaking ruins of Bal- shall priory, he told the Bishop that he preferred the English penance; and would, after he had undergone it, cover the headless trunk of Gaveston with the banners of Scottish chiefs, till the King *3 ( 3 01 ) should stanch his tears for the dead, and blend cordial affection for the living, with forgiveness of a salutary error. Warmed by the anticipation of future happiness and glory, and driving from his thoughts the repulsive conditions which were to restore him to the privileges of a citizen, with that happy shortsightedness of sorrow which marks a sanguine tem- per, Warwick turned to his Matilda, to impart those designs that would illumine her pale cheek with the glow of hope and

the smile of love ; while Lancaster, with the caution of experience, and the appre- hensions which his regard for Warwick inspired, privately adjured the Bishop to

tell him if he thought it possible that they

could be cordially reconciled to the King. Stapleton answered, with the simplicity of a placable and sincere heart, that he would

pledge his best hopes for the King's faith. The new favourite, Spenser, a man of

real talent^ seemed wholly to engross him, :

( 3 02 )

and much good was expected from his

influence. Had it already produced any effect? inquired the Earl. Much: His Majesty was no longer light and versa-

tile, frivolous and impetuous, but grave,

calm, and determined ; often lamenting

that his faithful cousin Lancaster, and his brave knight Beauchamp, withdrew from

his councils, and doubted his sincerity.

The Earl sighed ; repeated the words

" faithful and brave !" recollecting his mother's prediction, that a mound was raised on Blacklow Hill which royal for- giveness would never overleap. Addressing the Bishop of Exeter " Though," said he, " you came only as a true churchman, to reconcile me to

' our holy mother, yet I know your kind nature will not shrink from further me- diation. Commend me to my Lord the the King, and say, while the body of

Lancaster shall be in Spain, his soul will remain in England. As a true subject, ( 3*3 )

I offer to my liege lord, my prayers, my purse, my knights, and my men at arms.

Fain would I commend to his especial confidence and favour a scion of the Lan- castrian rose, Henry of Leicester, whose late disclosed bloom has never been tainted by the canker of disloyalty. His sword, baptized in the blood of a sacri- legious ravisher, will prove a holy and invincible barrier to the proud boasts of

Bruce and his rapacious marauders, should they dare to pass the English frontiers. If I be gladdened with the tidings that all is well, I will yet visit Pa- lestine, and fulfil the task I undertook, in compliance with the command of our late red monarch and captain. The sum

h he devoted to the ransom of Chris- tian captives shall be advanced by me as a voluntary mulct to expiate my offences. My wife and my son will remain in Eng- land, hostages of my fealty, and in the safe keeping of their royal kinsman's C 3°4 ) honour, and the affection of a generous nation. In this my full and loyal sub- mission to the King, I look not only to the anointed son of my illustrious uncle, but also to the sworn conservator of those laws which I confess I have rashly broken. But to the Bishop of Rome I owe neither suit nor service ; and with you, reverend Father, I enter my protest against his temporal jurisdiction, though, as a true Catholic, owning him to be head of the universal church, of which I ain a member, I embrace the penance he enjoins." Thus, .with a sophistry characteristic of a superstitious yet lofty mind, the Earl of Lancaster reconciled the extremes of abject submission and steady resist- ance. His own apprehensions of the King's concealing some vindictive design were not diminished by the assurances of Stapleton, whose sincerity he valued

more than his discernment ; but as he :

( 3°5 )

perceived Warwick implicitly relied on

this promised pardon, he deemed it a

duty to conceal his own doubts, lest his

impetuous friend, in the event of any ob-

stacle to his expectation, should consider

them as excitements to another insurrec-

tion, which, in the present state of affairs, must be attended with tremendous results

to the nation. On turning his thoughts to his do- mestic concerns, Lancaster considered

that the safety of his wife and child was secured by the presence and power of

his brother, whose unimpeached fidelity

the King would not dare to alienate beside that, his own feudatory troops would form a third portion of any army

the King could bring into the field. But it was not on the score of safety that his apprehensions for Alicia rose ; he could not propose to take her with him, knowing that her want of fortitude was an insuperable objection to her under- ( 3°6 ) taking a perilous voyage, a painful pil- grimage, and a dangerous sojourn, in a land overrun with infidels, and the con- stant scene of bloody contention. And had he not equal cause of fear from her want of discretion, if she remained in England. His continued admonitions could hardly counteract the opiates of flattery, or the delusions of dissipation. The potency of the Lancastrian branch of Plantagenet would prevent external dangers ; but where was the barrier which could defend her from those enemies to his peace which she cherished in her own bosom. Yet, should the injunctions of the church be slighted, and his soul's weal be endangered, the energies of the patriot paralyzed, and the saint recalled from his heavenly aspirations to become the warder and the monitor of a vain,

weak woman ? No ; he- must do his duty, secure his own salvation, requalify ( 3-7 )

himself for the calls of his high station,

and leave her to Providence. The pious credulity which induced sincere devotees to believe that the minis- ters of religion partook of the immaculate

sanctity of the altar at which they offered the vows of the faithful, induced theEari of Lancaster to consider his wife's con- fessor as a man to whom he might in-

trust his anxieties ; and, in. the full con- viction that Sir Hilary was disposed to an, honest discharge of his, duty towards his volatile penitent, he informed him of his doubts respecting the discretion and reso- lution of his consort. The venal priest had long laboured cautiously, but sedu- lously, to alienate the affections of Da Lacy's wealthy heiress from her princely spouse, well knowing, that if she desired, her pre-contract to Surrey (which had never been formally abrogated) would dissolve her present marriage, and leave her at liberty to renew her vows with a ( 3°3 ) nobleman, whose gratitude pointed to the mitred abbey of Ripon as a reward for the assistance which his spiritual functions might afford. Beatrice was also bound to

Surrey's interest by bribes and promises ; and even the physician was secured by similar motives, to be treacherous to his master, and faithful to his insidious em- ployer. Thus was formed a secret junto, pledged to betray the unhappy lady, to whom they appeared as commodious in- struments of her will, and enraptured admirers of her singular perfections.

It was highly necessary that the Earl of Lancaster should not be undeceived, as to the character and intentions of the man who was to act so conspicuous a part in this dark conspiracy against his

peace and honour ; yet, on being urged to give his opinion, as to the most pru- dent method of disposing of Alicia, dur- ing her lord's absence, the practised deceiver could hardly suppress a visible ( 3°9 ) expression of satisfaction, at finding that his machinations might be carried on without the counteraction of an affection- ate, but high-minded husband, who, so far from suspecting his design, depended on his fidelity. He threw his eyes to the earth, lest they should appear to welcome the mitre, which seemed just dropping upon his head, and uttered an eulogium on the Earl's piety, in seeking an imme- diate reconciliation with the church by the combined exercise of devotion and valour, conjuring him not to let the fer- vour of his zeal and courage be impeded by apprehensions for the conduct of his lady. He had studied her character, and found all rectitude and purity in her in- tentions ; though her susceptibility was acute, her affections vehement, and her health delicate. The most tender treat- ment was requisite to one who, being too much prone to self-accusation, sunk un- der the gentlest remonstrance j yet, her ( 3io )

perceptions of excellence were so refined, and her desire of high and honourable renown so insatiable, that he knew these sensations would not only be her sure

preservatives from all that was degrading

and vicious, but would also stimulate her,

if she were generously left sole mistress of her own conduct, to the practice of such lofty virtues as would make the Earl

proud of his fair partner, and give to her name a celebrity exceeding what the

most eminent ladies in England ever

could boast. But as spirits of so exalted

a class could only refine their own dross, as the diamond affords means to produce

its own polish^ the Earl must have pa-

tience till, by spiritual aid, her soul

threw off its youthful exuberances. An

unsparing liberality, which a narrow soul or limited means might deem profusion, was one of those exube-

- it rances y yet surely in her was a venial error. ( 3 11 )

Lancaster interrupted the confessor :

" Far be it from me," said he, " whose rent-roll contrasted with the charter of the royal demesnes, reflects poverty on

them ; far be it from me to prescribe thrift to the heiress of De Lacy ! Con- trariwise, I should rejoice if she could

devise means, virtuously and wisely, to rid me of that superflux, for which I feel the responsibility of an anxious steward. Nature does not bring forth her products with such prodigality as will suffice to gorge a race of Polyphemes, and the fa- voured guests who are seated at her tables of plenty must remember to ban- quet with decorous moderation ; not casting the offals of their luxury to the world's commoners, but inviting their less happily supplied fellow-creatures to participate in their enjoyments. If my wife shall perform acts of honourable munificence, if she erect schools and colleges, repair the temples of the Most ( 3*2 )

High, emdow hospitals, patronize learn- ing, encourage genius, feed the destitute,

employ the indigent, I will pawn the

heir-looms left me by my ancestors, ere her bounty shall be checked by the limi-

tations of rigid prudence ; I will leave her, as you advise, uncontrolled mistress of her own actions, and of the income of a princely patrimony. On you, father,

I depend, to impress upon a spirit which you describe as so truly noble, a sense of the responsibility implied in this trust. Direct her contempt of wealth and de- sire of fame to its true aim ; and to the blessings of those numerous children of affliction whom these evil times will drive to seek the shelter of her fos- tering care, shall be added the thanks and the prayers of a joyful husband. To intimate any other reward, would be an offence to your sanctity."

Sir Hilary folded his hand in his robe, and, by an emphatic motion of his head, I 3*3 ) indicated his renunciation of all the vani- ties that wealth and power could bestow.

After complimenting the Earl on his pe- netration, in thus rightly interpreting his character, he enquired as to the time of his quitting England, and found that every preparation was completed, and that he now only delayed his departure on two accounts, one of which was to bid farewell to his consort. Beatrice, who was now summoned, stated that her lady

night in had spent a the severest agony ; but the physician had at length succeeded in lulling her. She had fallen into a calm slumber, which it was hoped would reinvigorate her exhausted frame. Sir Hilary strongly advised that she should be spared the pang of parting. If tha blandishments of her tenderness or pity for her distress diverted Lord Lancaster from his pious design, the weight of an

unperformed obligation would lie upon

his conscience. Beside, there was a

VOL. II. p ( 3H ) hazard that the lady, in her exclamatory anguish, might utter some unweighed reprehension of the sacred authority by which they were separated, of which, as a church-man, he must perforce take cognizance. Lancaster yielded to these dissuasives. He well knew that Alicia's tears could shake, though not overthrow his fortitude ; and an important cere- mony to be performed, previous to his departure, required him to preserve a firm, collected mind. On condition of his immediately embarking for Spain, the Bishop of Exeter promised privately to baptize his child, and permit him to wit- ness the sacred rite. His train were al- ready equipped and mustered, eager to signalize their courage against the Moors.

The wind was fair for the Bay of Biscay, and a galley, that brought a son of the King of Castile to the English court, was ready to return. Lancaster hastened to ( 3»5 )

Alicia's apartment, and as he kissed her pale, unconscious cheek, still wet with tears, implored the Holy Virgin and every saint in Heaven to confirm her virtues, and preserve her innocence. This done, he gave a solemn charge to her attend- ants, to be discreet, affectionate, and

his faithful to their lady, during absence ; and then, with lowly obeisances, pre- sented himself at the door of the chapel, where the charitable Bishop, holding the young Plantagenet in his arms, stood before the font, waiting the father's approach, before he pronoun- ced the sanctifying words, and im- printed on the forehead of the babe the sign of admission into the Christian church. • Moved by compassion for the unoffend- ing infant, and friendship for the contrite father, the Bishop thus far consented to relax the severities of ecclesiastical cen- p 2 ( M )

Sure, but to admit the Earl within the

holy edifice set apart for the congre-

gations of the faithful, was a privilege which he could not grant. Yet, even from the exterior porch, once appro- priated to catechu menical novices, to con- template the services of the temple,—and, as he lay prostrate on the sacred thres- hold, to make his confession, and return humble thanks for the unmerited grace bestowed on his son,—was a consolation of such inestimable value, that it seemed cheaply purchased by the lowest abase- ment. In consideration of his speedy submission, Stapleton further granted him a conditional absolution, to be in force as soon as he touched the shores of Spain or Italy. This was to restore him to the comforts of confession, and attendance on the daily ministrations, though his full reconciliation could only be awarded by the Father hermit of Montserrat, or the l ( 2> 7 ) officiating priest of Loretto. Thus, with a heart lightened of its most insup- portable anguish, Lancaster entered on

his prescribed labours.

* 3 J

( 3?% )

CHAP. XXI.

Leisure is pain ; takes off our chariot wheels ;

How heavily we drag the load of life !

Blest leisure is our curse ; like that of Cain,

It makes us wander ; wander earth around

To fly that tyrant thought. As Atlas groan' The world beneath, we groan beneath an hour. We cry for mercy to the next amusement. Young.

A LICIA awoke from her slumbers with tranquillized nerves, and now recollecting that there were more human beings than herself, she inquired after

Warwick and Matilda. They had left Canford, the former to be reconciled

to the Church and the King, the latter to

seclude herself in the nunnery of Ames- bury, till circumstances should permit her marriage. The parting of the lovers was described by Dorcas, as she waited

on her lady's toilette, with a minute pa- ( 3'9 ) thos, which induced Alicia to sigh, be- cause her lord never talked so passion- ately, or left her with such reluctance, and even to remark on the painful con- trast. Surely, as she had been so dread- fully indisposed, the Earl of Lancaster might have anticipated her rising with his inquiries ; but she would, however, set him an example of affectionate solici- tude, and send to ask if he was well.

All her maidens were silent. The alarm of sincere love instantly subdued the pe- tulance of caprice. Had any ill befallen him. None ; but he had left England* without staying to inform her of the oc- casion or period of his absence- Her throbbing heart sickened at the tidings, and the acuteness of the pang told her it was with real sorrow. The confessor, the confidant, and the physician were again summoned; but the latter was speedily dismissed, the de- serted wife refused to consider her health, p 4 ' C 3 2 ° )

€>r even her life, of any consequence if it was of no value in the eyes of her lord. The colouring which Sir Hilary and Beatrice gave to his parting behaviour, changed her pity for Matilda into envy, and persuaded her that there was not a creature in the universe so wretched as herself. Would she were with her dearest Lancaster in exile, in peril ; or rather, since he hated and despised her, would she were in her grave ! "What was the world now to her ! A mournful yoid, a maze of perplexities, a wilder- ness of cares ! The priest shook his head mournfully, and exhorted her to bear her cross with patience. Beatrice wept aloud, that such unmerited trials were the lot of so excellent a being, and accused the malignant stars which had hindered her from becoming the wife of a -most indulgent and affectionate noble- man. Alicia's frowns awed her into silence,* while she herself meditated on ( 3- 1 ) her own childish, regrets and wayward inattention to her lord's solemn griefs and important cares. How would she reform her own weakness and minister to his anxieties, could she but exchange situations with the meanest slave, who, by attending her lord in his voyage, was privileged to gaze on his counte- nance, and hear wisdom and sanctity speak in his voice.

She did not long remain in this state of agony. The Earl of Leicester came to offer his protection to his brother's wife, and to assure her, that she was left mistress of her own conduct and his fortunes ; and Sir Robert Holland, after witnessing the embarkation of his master, returned to Canford, charged with this epistle, which was intended to be at ones her consolation and guide.

" Most dear lady, my beloved and right noble wife, our trusty friend,

p 5 C 3*2 )

Sir Robert Holland, will inform thee on what account I embark for Spain, to

serve a campaign against the infidels under the banner of Alphonso of Castile,

and why I further purpose, in obedience to the church, and in consideration of

the benefits I have ever received from

the Holy Virgin, to join the devout hermits of Montserrat in their devotions, and, perchance, accompany the pilgrims

who annually visit the wonderful Santa

Casa, which, in our age, has been car- ried by angels over wide seas and vast

regions, and fixed at Loretto, to comfort

the faithful and silence gainsayers. After

due prayers and oblations, I trust to be-

come reconciled to the church, and par-

doned for all my oifences.

u I intreat thee, dearest Alicia, not only to pray incessantly for my safety

and return, but to expedite it by thy good deeds and wise, pious deportment.

The large possessions, of which I give ( 3 2 3 ) thee the expenditure, are only to be employed as the means of securing thee an eternal inheritance, sparingly for thy own indulgence, liberally for others' wants. Use hospitality, but avoid a dangerous intimacy with worldly plea- sures, knowing how likely they are to ensnare thy soul, and that slander points her arrows at her who strays far from her abode while her lord is absent. Again,

I admonish thee; improve thine acquaint- ance with thyself. To prevent the misuse of time, the germ of all our misdoings, occupy thyself nobly, and usefully : our wealth will allow thee to found an hospital and a school at each of our principal castles, that the aged and the infirm may be sheltered in the one, and students trained in the other, in such suitable knowledge as may preserve England from the disgrace of sending to Rome for priests, instructed to betray the independence of her church, or em- p 6 ( 3 24 )

ploying such ignorant pastors as . cannot read the breviary and interpret scripture.

And it is my request that thou wouldst daily visit these foundations, not only to see that all is wisely and honestly order- ed, but to school thyself to the practice of humility and gratitude.

" I have left the management of my estates and the array of my Vassals to the care of my noble brother, and of my right trusty knight-chamberlain, with whom,

as faithful counsellors, , I wish thee*. to

acrvise. Deport thyself reverently to the

King, and, on all occasions, remember that as eminence in station makes the

light of our virtues seen from afar, so it

also denies us that covert of obscurity which would else have concealed our

faults. And, if I fall in the perilous ex-

pedition I have undertaken, I intreat thee

so to remember who was thy husband, and from what race thou hast sprung,

as to pass thy days of widowhood* dis- 8 ;

( m ) creetly, and patiently ; educating my son in the Catholic faith, and in obedience to the laws ; and keeping up all my pious and charitable institutions. And thus, in the hope of meeting thee again soon in this world, and finally, in the man- sions of the blessed, I bid thee heartily farewell ; from thy most true husband, " Thomas of Lancaster/ 3

A letter so full of pious counsel, and expressive rather of discriminating affec- tion than impassioned tenderness, was

not exactly what Alicia wished to receive

yet, since it assured her that Lancaster

left her in perfect charity, as it was a

pledge of his fidelity, and implied a con-

fidence in her discretion, it was invalu- able, especially as her conscience whis-

pered it was more than she deserved.

She pressed it alternately to her lips and

her heart, and finally deposited it in her

breviary, to be daily consulted as her perpetual monitor. ( 3^6 )

While the impression of these counsels was recent, Alicia distinguished herself by the most punctual compliance. The pre- liminary duties of examining plans for the edifices which she was invited to erect, determining their scite, signing grants of lands, and riding with a train of ladies and knights to inspect the progress of the buildings, were extremely pleasant, nor was the selection of meet inhabitants irksome. These occupations exercised her taste, soothed her pride, gratified her benevolence, and were attended with that parade and popularity which she deemed delightful ; and, during this happy period, she dispatched a page to Spain, charged with the following reply to her illustrious spouse :—

" Right noble and most dear lord and husband, this comes from your true wife, who desires your return above all things, and daily prays for your 2 ( 3 7 ) safety and honour, which, if her poor services could promote, she would wil- lingly lay down her life. I have further to inform you, that our young Edmund is well, and that all our affairs prosper.

I am building six fair edifices, as you advised me, such as have rarely been seen in England ; and I will endow them with similar magnificence from portions of my father's lands. The King has agreed to take the Earl of Warwick into his favour, who will espouse the Lady Matilda as soon as the great array, now proceeding against Scotland, has

driven Bruce beyond the Grampians ; for

the realm is now all agreed, that it is a foul shame for a King of England to be bearded in his own demesne by a rebel

Highlander, who broke fealty to his father. Leicester and Holland lead on

your brave Lancastrians ; and I have,

with my own hands, embroidered their banner, in which, ever remembering my ( 3^8 )

most dear lord, I have over the Red Rofe

designed a beaming cresset with this motto,

' I shine in the absence of the sun.* And

when they return- 1 will practise the hos-

pitality you advise, by welcoming home, the victors with revelry and minstrelsy,, such as the wife of a royal peer should provide. And further, according to what I know, your pious wishes would enjoin, intermingling with rewards for the living requiems for the dead, and largesses to those whom war has made destitute.

With this account of your household and friends, I bid you heartily farewel, pray- ing the Holy Mother to take her true worshipper into her especial keeping; from your faithful wife, " Alicia 'Lancaster/*

Thus wrote, and thus thought the lady, during the first zest of her em* ployments ; but, as is ever the case in all human designs, there soon arosr ( 3 2 9 )

inconveniences ; while thwarting difficul-

ties and perverse humours required the

exercise of such homely qualities as thought, and patient investigation. The gay young beauty found the manage- ment of her chanties a heavy task on her

indolence and levity, and soon yielded to the request of her confessor, who offered to be her almoner, and super- intend the ungrateful, querulous beings,

whom it was her hard fortune to have selected as objects of benevolence. She

reconciled herself to this act of disobe-

dience to her lord, by arguing that,

though she was most willing to do her duty, she was not required to persevere

at hazard of her life. The sight of dis- contented, miserable people made her

unhappy 5 it even made her unwell. From motives of benevolence she had preferred the most pitiable objects for her pensioners; but though the thought of

relieving them was pleasant, an assem- ;

( 33° ) blage of blind, maimed, diseased beings was revolting to the eye. Such sights might be requisite to read lessons of humility to iron nerves and callous

hearts ; on her they inculcated an entire

disgust at life, and certainly this was what her lord did not intend. As the potion

was too strong she must dilute it : diurnal

were therefore changed to weekly visits these were quickly prolonged to the

rotations of the moon, and at last, she

grew so irreconcilable to the language of complaint, and the presence of calamity,

that the visits were wholly omitted. An acquaintance with herself would tave told the Countess of Lancaster, that if real suffering must not be queru-

lous, lest it should drive compassion from

its couch, the victim of imaginary ills,

and the murnrurer at petty incon- veniences, deserve censure instead of pity. But her humble companions, bred in

habits of acquiescent servility, if they ;

( So* )

discovered her egotism and impatience, durst not suggest a remark which would

lead to improvement. They treated her

as a perfect being, a native of the celestial regions, who, while honouring the earth with her presence, had a right to the services of the whole creation. Yet they

admitted that, though she could not be wrong, she might be unfortunate and

even ill-treated. If she frowned, all

were ready to sooth and amuse her; while her smiles were hailed as the pre-

cursors of festivity. That acquaintance with real misery, which her lord advised

as the corrective of fastidiousness, being

laid aside, Alicia was deprived of the salutary relief of shade, which the splen- dour of uniform prosperity requires

and losing an incentive to generous exer-

tion and a sentiment of thankfulness at

her own happier lot, she soon began to

- sicken in the sunshine, and, like a

\ humoured child, to forego the present ( 31* >

, good, while pining for some untried pleasures. Sinking under the lassitude of self-indulgence, weary of rural sports, and of those agile exercises and those

designs of taste and ingenuity in which

her attendants only witnessed her skill,

the strains of her minstrels were scarce

regarded, and she laid by her lute in disgust. The banquet was served in ostentatious stupidity, while the jester

in his motley coat, and the dwarf with

his dagger of lath, bandied their quaint

jests and coarse merriment, unhonoured by the smile of their languid lady. Her

female train, yawning in sympathy, soon shewed that they had caught the infec- tion, and persuaded the Countess that

her lord's injunction to the practice of hospitality proceeded from his convic- tion that such refined excellence must

not be immured in solitude. True, she had given their due honours to every festive season. Canford, Pontefract, and ( 333 )

Kenilworth had alternately been thescenes

of magnificent entertainments ; but, with the amusements of the day, the hilarity they inspired had vanished. Novelty was wanting to give a zest to diversion, and it was now the time to remember another of the Earl of Lancaster's directions, and shew her respect to the King. The court then lay at Newcastle, there the royal banner was unfurled, and troops poured in from ail quarters to take part in the Scottish wars. Pursuing the thought, Beatrice asked why should not her lady, as a countess in her own right, put herself at the head of her im- mediate vassals, mounted on a white palfrey, and followed by a knight carry-

ing her young son, and by a long train of ladies splendidly attired, with hand-

some pages walking by their sides. It would be respectful to the King; she could

well afford it $ and many ladies had ac- ( 334 )

quired prodigious renown by appearing in camps, and animating warriors by their smiles to deeds of prowess which they could not otherwise have achieved. No objection could arise from the hazard of such an undertaking. Never had England put forth an array so great and magnificent. An hundred thousand men were collected, completely armed and ably appointed. The knights vied with each other in the splendour of their equipage and the ingenuity of their de- vices. The military engines were nume- rous and dreadful ; even the war-wolves of the great Edward were brought out, and not a walled town in Scotland could resist their pressure. Edward Bruce, who audaciously laid siege to the castle of Stirling, was expected to give up the enterprize in despair. It was known that his brother Robert trembled on his throne; all was terror north of the

Tweed y all confidence and gaiety at ii !

( 335 )

Newcastle, which combined the splen- dour of a court with the energies of a camp. Scotland was so sure to submit, that feasting and merriment softened the rough features of war; and surely it was wrong to be shut up in the lonely castle of Pontefract, where they could hear the neighing of steeds and the shouting of warriors passing to this glorious con- course, and not visit the soul-animating scene, nor share the laurels which must be the portion of such an invincible host

Even the Earl of Lancaster would tes- tify his approbation, when, at his return, he was shewn the pennon of Mac Moray or Douglass, which had been laid at his lady's feet as one of the spoils of

Caledonia, due to her courage and her beauty.

The letter to which Alicia had once daily referred as her monitor, proscribed an intimate acquaintance with worldly pleasures : but who could call following ;

( 33<5 ) a camp, pleasure ? It was not retirement, true ; but it was glory. To the best of her recollection, glory was not prohibited; but the Countess had mislaid her bre- viary, so could not refer to it's instruc- tions. Sophistry is ingenious, and sub- terfuges are never wanting to assist a craving inclination and lax principles. All was done as her advisers prompted and the lady had the satisfaction of lead- ing a cavalcade of knights and ladies from Pontefract to Newcastle, alike emi- nent for personal beauty and gorgeous equipment. In a reign when England piqued itself on gallant cavaliers, rather than on hardy combatants, the surpassing splendor of this array furnished conver- sation for Edward's boastful warriors, and would have removed from his own breast his abhorrence of the name of Lancaster, if revenge had not been too deeply im- planted to give place to the fopperies which amused his imagination 5 and if ( 337 ) his minions, provoked at the eclipse of their own efforts, had not invidiously- whispered in the royal ear, that every scarf was spotted with the blood of Gave- ston. The knights of the Red Rose (for so Alicia named her champions) were not the last who assembled at Newcastle. The gallant Beauchamp arrived next day, at the head of his paternal bands ; and having encamped them on the vast plain, in the centre of which the standard of

England was unfurled, hastened to pay his duty to his sovereign, and publicly receive the long-promised pardon. It was given with an appearance of gracious cordiality ; but those who could interpret the looks of kings, read in Edward's a

settled abhorrence, and shuddering re-

luctance, ill concealed by the forced smile

with which he invited ^Beauchamp to be

a guest at the banquet he that evening

gave to his captains. Even that sanguine

VOL. II. Q ( 338 )

youth could not but perceive how pale

the King looked ; and how cold was the

enervated hand which, as it raised him from his knees, refused the cordial pres- sure that betokened amity. " The King has not forgiven me," said he to Here- u ford ; this is only the foretaste of a re-

conciliation, which I will consummate in

some bloody encounter, if the moss- tfooping Scot gives us leave to try our manhood." " Young man," replied the veteran, " hast thou forgot the greeting which even Thomas Plantagenet received from

our northern neighbours ? I felt the hard grasp of their mailed hands at a time when they called us the valiant Southerns, and no motley fool among them durst attempt to flatter doating beldames, by scoffing at the King or the realm of Eng- land. Seek not to purchase the royal favour, by offering to go on the forlorn hope against such an enemy, unless con- ( 339 )

tent to stake thy heart's blood for a toy, which shall be won from thee again by the jest of a buffoon, or the vaultings of a dancer."

The earls withdrew together, speaking with concern of Lady Lancaster's design of accompanying the army into Scotland; and Warwick undertook to warn her of

its dangerous impropriety, but neither

the banquet nor the ball which followed, afforded opportunity for grave admoni-

tion. All-was splendid exhibition, loud

mirth, and festivity. Among the barons

the suit of Surrey was as much dis-

tinguished for its magnificence, as that

of Alicia was among the ladies. Either by chance or design he wore her livery, and many remarks were made on this coincidence. Lancaster was known to have sinned against the King's affections, and the Queen's vanity, beyond the pos-

sibility of forgiveness. It is a maxim with

courtiers to hasten the fall of the rock Q 2 C 340 ) which they suspect has been under- mined 5 and defamatory whispers against the princely pilgrim were blended with wishes that he never might return again to sever the goodly pair, who were now selected by the admiring voices of all the circle to dance a measure together* Surrey pressed the yielded hand of the Countess with a look which protested that time and absence had not liberated his heart, and he led her through the mazes of the dance with graceful vivacity. A tumult of applause followed the perform- ance, mixed with sarcastic gibes on mopes and dullards, who preferred a mouldy relic to a lady's glove. Alicia heard the taunts which disclaimed the decorum of privacy : they were extremely offensive,

highly irritating ; and yet those who ut- tered them professed to be her friends,

and greeted her in the grateful language

of "Fairest lady, surely if the Lord Lan- caster were worthy such a treasure, he ( 34i ) would have sought absolution from those eyes, where dwells the benignity and brightness of heaven."

Speeches of this kind, repeated by almost every beholder, and always en- forced by a deep-drawn sigh from Surrey, whose silence spoke more expressively than words could have done, excited in the bosom of Alicia an emotion, so dif- ferent from the listless uniformity of her late life, that she could hardly tell whe- ther it were pain or pleasure. She con- sulted her confessor, who assured her that it was a delightful and noble sensation. Praise was the appropriated aliment of generous minds, without which they would languish ; and the perturbation of which she complained, was a proof that her's was recovering from the apathy of misanthropy, brought on by injudicious management.

Alicia then acknowledged that, beside

this universal admiration, she was dis-

Q 3 ( 342 )

tressed by the marked assiduities of the

Earl of Surrey. She blushed as she spoke, for the father's eyes were fixed upon her face, with an expression which made her shudder, though she durst not

interpret its meaning.

* c *Tis plain, noble lady," said he,

" the Earl of Surrey still loves you. He has tried time and absence, and finding

them ineffectual, abandons his soul to the sad consolation of meditating on his once

destined wife, the fairest and the best of

all created beauties. Yet surely, though he restrains his passion within those rules of chivalry which holy church does

not interdict, it is my duty to inquire if

this discovery has awakened in your heart any sensation more painful than pity, or regrets that there are impediments to be- coming his wife ?" Alicia answered, " None." " No wish," resumed Sir Hilary, " that the contract, which the church has ( 343 ) not yet annulled, had not been suspended, by your hasty union with the Earl of Lan- caster r" Alicia indignantly repeated the expur- gatory epithet, and, with clasped hands, prayed for the life and return of her dear and honoured lord. The eyes of Sir

Hilary fell on the ground, while he strug- gled to conceal his mortification, by faintly answering, all then was well. *< Had this been the case," resumed he, " you must have submitted to a course of mor- tification, and been interdicted the sight of Lord Surrey ; but since such is the strictness of your fidelity, I may continue to allow, nay prescribe you, the free use of worldly delights, during your residence with the court, by way of corrective to that injurious melancholy with which the loneliness of your usual habits infects your spirits. Fear not, therefore, while your passions are in this happy state of

subjection, to gladden the festive circles Q 4 ( 344 )

with your presence ; or to cheer the de- sponding heart of noble Surrey with a

smile, sweet and chaste as those of virgin

martyrs, who thus, when expiring at the stake, converted their bloody perse-

cutors." The priest closed hjs eyes, and awhile seemed wrapped in holy medita-

tion ; and then added, " As soon as you feel the least temptation to swerve from

duty, fail not on your salvation to con- sult me, that I may instantly prescribe remedies." Scarce had Sir Hilary quitted the con- fessional, when the shriek of Mabel in- terrupted the Lady's meditations on the singular liberality of her ghostly father.

The terrified nurse ran into the apart- ment, exclaiming, " He is dead, a mi- racle only can restore him !" The ap- prehensions of Alicia instantly pointed to the objects which most forcibly in-

terested her heart, — her child, her lord ; but Mabel continued to wring her hands, ( 345 ) and without answering any inquiries, by her unconscious lamentations relieved the fears she had excited. " O !" continued she, " the child I so often dandled on my knee, the gallant knight who never passed me without tossing me a noble,

' and pleasantly saying, What ! old dame Mabel, cheating the worms still ?

There is a trifle for thee to fee the sexton, who grows marvellously angry at thy

keeping him out of work.' Ah ! so brave

as he was last night featly footing with the Lady Eleanor of Gloucester, and telling her if Hugh Spenser was not a

livelier wooer, he should still be married

before her. Yes, and scoffed at the Queen's pranked-up maidens, saying, they must find fresh perfumes and washes ere they would seem to him as sweet as

this flower of the mountains. Dear lady,

why don't you weep, so as your noble lord

loved his friend Warwick ; so as all the

a 5 ( 346 ) world loved him, but the wicked King and Queen, and their murdering minions who poisoned him at last night's ban- quet/'

c - Speak you of Warwick !" said Alicia, " of Warwick, dead, poisoned !" " Dead and poisoned," resumed the half frantic mourner; "but it is only poor people dare tell the truth. The lords wo'n't venture to say so, lest they should get served in the same way. So they shake their heads, and debate who will lead on the bands of the Beau- champs ; but I know more than they

is do: this only the beginning of sorrows ; though if the holy saints and the old roan hobby will once more carry me safe to Pontefract-castle, my old bones shall never be dragged out again to look at kings and queens, and run the hazard of being murdered by them. Dearest lady, let us all hurry away. Better ran- som your lands from the Scots than for- ( 347 )

feit your life ; for the bewitched King never will forgive those who set England free from the curse of Gaveston." The bold accusations of Mabel, and a recollection of the ominous presages once expressed by her lord, filled Alicia witb such apprehensions for the safety of her- self and her son, that her regret for her early playmate, and her pity for Matilda, were suspended by those precautions which the spoiled children of prosperity first think of in the hour of danger, and then felicitate themselves on being pru- dent. She sent for the Earl of Hereford to come and protect her, who reluctantly left the corpse of the young nobleman, of whom he and England conceived the highest hopes, to know (for so her mes-

sage imported) what threatened the life of noble Lancaster's wife and son. By the time the rough chieftain reached her

quarters, Alicia and her attendants had by

participation so aggravated their terrors, Q6 ( 348 ) that, crowding together in an obscure apartment, they looked like the fatal sisters of northern mythology, perform- ing their secret incantations. Supreme in horror, Alicia sat upon the ground, clasping her son to her bosom, and seem- ing to conceal him with her disheveled hair.

" Courage, dearest lady," said one of the maidens, " here is the brave Earl of

Hereford, who will save our lives." cc From whom ?" said the. Earl en-

tering. u From the King, who will poison us like the Earl of Warwick," was repeated by various voices. " Fools!" said Bohun, angrily: " What mismanagement is there in this mansion? Are there no employments for the house- hold, that thus a number of idle women assemble in groupes to utter scandal, and scare away each other's senses ? Begone, trifiers, to some housewife's task, while T commune with your lady." ( 349 ),

Awed by his words, the women with-

. and Alicia saw the necessity of ex- ercising self-command while she addressed the stern comforter, whose mind, im- pressed by the scene he had just left, and well divining its portentous aspect, was too occupied to practise the courtesy re- quired by the humoured fancies of a way- ward lady. Ashamed to acknowledge that she thought most of her own safety, she only inquired if the Earl of Warwick was indeed dead. " Most true, lady," answered Here- ford, and brushed a tear from his cheek. u Beshrew my soul, the sight has un- manned me. That fair pilgrim, — her silent distress. She still sits motionless by the body. A lovely creature as ever my eyes beheld. She arrived but last night, to bring him a precious amulet that would heal wounds. I fear," con- tinued Hereford, sobbing aloud, " they

will be buried in one grave." ( 35° )

Alicia forgot her own terrors at thrs

lively description of Matilda's distress, and with that quick diversion of impulse which marks keen sensibility when stimu-

lated to action, gave her hand to Here- ford, and begged he would instantly conduct her to the mourner.

" It will be a kind act to offer your

protection to the destitute maiden i" said Hereford^ " but you cannot teach her

fortitude till you have recollected your

own. Adjust your attire ; compose your

features ; and tell me what is the danger from which you sent for me to rescue you." Alicia then disclosed in what manner Mabel had accounted for the sudden death of Beauchamp. " Chain up that gossip's tongue," said Bohun, " and as you value your lord's

life, and the lives of his compatriots,

let not a word or look betray that you

have listened to its babblings. The ho- ( 35' ) nour of England is committed against

Scotland ; and we must not blot the escutcheon of our king lest our own shields should be cloven by the Highland

claymore. And to ensure our persons against similar attacks we must appear

unsuspicious, and be unanimous ; for if

one baron has fallen a victim to revenge,

many will be sacrificed to safety." There was a considerable share of na- tive generosity in Alicia's character,

which, like her other virtues, being lulled by the song of adulation, slumbered on the lap of ease. She soon perceived,

that by a precipitate flight to one of her

own fortresses, she should betray to the

King her apprehensions ; sow division in

the army ; and perhaps hasten the exe- cution of some nefarious design against

other barons who had taken part in the late insurrection. She consulted Here- ford on what course she should pursue,

who, hastily chiding her for coming into ( 35* ) a turbulent scene unsuited to her sex, and derogatory to her character, advised her to quit it, as soon as she could do so without appearing to fly through terror, or retire in disgust. Recollecting her late conduct with renewed disapproba- tion, Alicia protested that she would de- vote herself to the consolation of the amiable Matilda. " If she lives," said

Hereford ; and, with accelerated speed, they hastened to Warwick's quarters. The cause of the premature death of Guy de Beauchamp continues to be one of the. enigmas which history has not re- solved. No circumstances have been re- corded which explain why the charge of poisoning him was fixed upon the King ; and as his death was unpropitious to the royal cause, candour requires posterity to acquit Edward of the weak revenge of sacrificing the Earl, long after he had given the provocation, and at a time when

his services would have been highly ira~ ( 353 ) portant, especially, as by cutting him oil he risked the alienation of his half-recon- ciled barons. Superstition and rash judg- ment are the general errors of mankind in rude ages, ever prone to have recourse to the marvellous, to see ominous prodi- gies, to discover divine visitations in every extraordinary occurrence, and to suspect secret murders. In those diseases which eluded the discernment, or baffled the skill of the unscientific leach, or the nostrums in the gossip's herbal, our an- cestors discovered the malignant witch or

the invincible sorcerer ; and when a pre- mature or sudden death defeated some fondly cherished hope, or frustrated an important design, the catastrophe was not referred to slowly consuming phthisis, or sanguineous apoplexy, but to some secret agent of an adversary who, deeply versed in the infernal art of destruc- tion, could temper his poisonous potion with such exactness as to make the life ( 354 )

and the sufferings of the victim extend

« to whatever day or year the employer commanded.

At this period the situation of the barons and that of the kingdom were

equally critical. The former were shut up with their sovereign in a walled town, where no troops but his household guards were admitted, their own feudal bands

having either marched off to the general

rendezvous at Berwick, or else having encamped under their respective banners, in a large plain on the other side the

Tyne. As for the kingdom, it was suf- fering under the severe punishment of

scarcity, the consequence of unfavourable seasons and neglected agriculture, aggra- vated by those predatory incursions of the Scots, which had, for many years, laid waste the northern counties. The

dormant spirit of the nation had at last

been stimulated to rush on the marauders,

and compel their submission, as the only ( 355 ) means of preserving the kingdom from that tremendous kind of undisciplined warfare which gives the most ample scope to the demons of lust, avarice, and re- venge. But though stung to the quick by a long succession of these outrages, the wasteful effects of which were per- ceived even in the most southern extre- mity of the realm, so much had the King's mal-administration indisposed the minds of his subjects, and mis-directed their passions, that they were more ready to rise against him, than to rescue themselves from the shame and ignominy of seeing one-third of the kingdom annually laid waste, the harvest burnt or devoured by strangers, the cattle driven off, the dwel- lings of the husbandman destroyed, and the inhabitants obliged to shelter in walled towns, or within fortified castles.

The immense but ill constituted mul- titudes which, at the royal summons, ( 356 ) were assembled by their respective barons, depended as much on the expectation of plunder as on regular pay for their remu- neration. Ignorant of the difficulties of the enterprize in which they had embarked, yet, recollecting how often the late King had laid waste Scotland with a smaller force, they proudly anticipated an easy conquest, and counted the spoils of Dum- fries and Edinburgh as certain as the wages of a daily hireling. Yet in spite of revenge, avarice, and the pride of na- tional honour, the King's banner was in danger of being deserted when the tidings of the Earl of Warwick's death reached, the camp, accompanied by the accusation

that his fate had been basely hastened. A mutinous disposition instantly appeared;

the soldiers left their stations, disobeyed their leaders, wandered sullenly through

the camp, or gathered in small parties,

listening to the tales of some who had seen omens, or the narratives of others who ( 357 ) described, or rather invented circum- stances, which turned suspicion into cer- tainty. Without investigating the proba- bility of those reports which detailed conversations that could not have been overheard, and revealed purposes that must have been secret, a murmur of dis- content announced a determination to clear the court of murderers before they drove the heath -brousing Scot to seek refuge in the Orkneys or Hebrides ; and they proceeded to fortify the camp, de- fying the monarch, and even their own barons if they opposed their designs.

The King's council was at this time composed of lords who, though guiltless of the death of Gaveston, had heartily engaged in the designs of Lancaster and Warwick. However the principles of

these chiefs might dispose them to en- courage whatever made the court unpo-

pular, a sense of duty arising from public

jer. and regard to their own safety, ( 358 ) compelled them to give their support to regal authority. In this emergency, they recommended that the Earl of Hereford, the Countess of Lancaster, and her young son, should be detained at Newcastle, in reality as pledges to secure the fidelity 6f their followers, though ostensibly with every profession of care for their per-

sons ; and that the nobleman who was most popular among the commons should be sent to the camp, to endeavour to persuade them to return to their duty. This advice was instantly adopted. He- reford was called into personal attend- ance on his royal brother-in-law, and a part of the household troops were stationed at the Countess of Lancaster's quarters, under the pretence of a guard of honour to supply the place of her knights of the Red Rose, whose impe- tuosity had already spurred them to the banks of the Tweed, to gain the first- fruits of glory before the main body ar- 10 C 359 ) rived, which was to take possession of Scotland.

In addition to these precautions, the gates of Newcastle were shut, and all in- tercourse with the mutineers prohibited, as soon as the Earl of Gloucester (who undertook his usual character of medi- ator) had left the town. He addressed to the soldiers an argument best adapted to revive the slumbering sense of ho- nour, namely, the advance of the first division of the army, who were now on the borders of Scotland. " Would you," said he, Cf desert your fellows, who have rushed before you, confident of your sup- port, to disperse the half-formed array of theLowlanders, and waste their resources, ere they have collected magazines, or driven off their herds to the mountains where the Highland chiefs are assembling their clans ? And shall the vanguard re- lieve Stirling, s^ack Edinburgh, and again plant the lions of England on the heights C 360 )

- of Dumbarton y while you, . brain-sick cavillers, will not suffer the soul of a

Christian knight to take its flight to para- dise, without turning inquisitors, and asking death whether he had his commis- sion from heaven or from hell ? Slander- ers of your King, say was not Guy de Beau- champ a faithful subject ; and have we now so many more true hearts than the state requires, that Majesty is itself com- pelled to thin the ranks of his brave cap- tains, lest the Highland broad-sword should lose its edge ere it has mowed down the pride of England ? My pennon is spread, and my spurs set for Scotland, Have ye commands for your comrades, whom I shall not overtake till they have passed the

Cheviot hills ? Shall I tell them they must be content with having the raven and the fox for their sexton, or commend them to be shrived by the first priest whom they may overtake hurrying to Bruce with tidings of the English inroad ; or

7 ( 3*» ) shall I bear a flag of truce to the Scot, and, on condition of the vanguards be- coming his bondsmen, procure you his passport to return safe to your own homes, where, over your anvils , and ploughs, you may leisurely indict your King for murder, and resign, with his reputation, your national independence." The Earl of Gloucester accompanied this harangue with correspondent actions. He dragged the factious orators from their rostrums, dispersed the listening auditory, drove the sentinels to their posts, and sternly reproved the subaltern commanders, who had suffered disufFec-

:o rise to such a height without ar- resting its progress. Firmness always removes the danger which imbecility has

ited. The tide of opinion began its reflux : it was remarked that the King had a brave kinsman ; the exploits of the house of De Clare were called to mind, and every soldier anticipated victory un-

VOL. II. R ( 3^2 ) der such a leader. Gloucester did not allow the enthusiasm he had enkindled to subside, but caused the trumpets to sound for Scotland ; then carrying his banner in his own hand, advanced to the fords of the Tyne, passed the rocky channel, planted his ensign on the debateable land, and calling on all true hearts to follow him, and leave cowards and rebels to accuse their King and desert their chief- tains, led the late mutinous but now loyal army to cope with their antient enemies.

END OF THE SECOND VOLUME.

Strahan and Preston, Printers-Street, London.

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